WHITE  CHRIST 


ROBERT  AMES  BENNET 


V 


J 


A\J 


FOR  THE  WHITE  CHRIST 


ing's  daughter  —  mtlevalsMvith  eyes 
like  dewy  violets  ! '  "  [Page  250 


FOR  THE 
WHITE  CHRIST 


SCORY 

OF 

Ok  DAYS  or  ChflRiemflGiie 


Bennec 

CAVING  Piccoues  AND  DCSICNS  BIJ 


Chicjico 


1  9  O  5 


Univ.  Library,  UC  Santa  Cruz  1997 


Copyright, 

By  A.  C.  McClurg  &  Co. 
1905 

Published  March  18,  1905 

Entered  at  Stationers*  Hall,  London 
All  rights  reserved 


The  University  Press,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


PS 

3503 

£549 


1405 


When  Alcuin  taught  the  sons  of  Charlemagne, 
In  the  free  schools  of  Aix,  how  kings  should  rule. 

LONGFELLOW. 


tfje  JHemorg 

of 


ACKNOWLEDGMENT 


LLr  the  chapter  headings  of 
this  story  are  taken  from  lays 
which  were  sung  by  harpers 
and  skalds  before  the  high- 
seats  of  heathen  Norse  chiefs 
and  in  the  halls  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  kings,  while  England 
was  yet  a  heptarchy  and  the 
name  of  Mohammed  but  little 
known  to  men  even  on  the 
shores  of  the  far-distant  Bosphorus. 

In  most  instances  the  selections  are  from  Magnusson 
and  Morris's  beautiful  translations  of  "The  Volsunga 
Saga,  and  Certain  Songs  from  the  Elder  Edda."  The 
spirited  lines  from  "  Beowulf,"  "  Maldon,"  "  Finnes- 
burh,"  and  "  Andreas "  were  found  in  Gummerle's 
"  Germanic  Origins."  The  translation  of  "  Brunan- 
burh "  is  by  Tennyson. 

Apology  is  due  for  occasional  alterations  and  elisions, 
all  of  which  will  readily  be  detected  by  students  of  the 
wonderful  poetic  fragments  which  have  come  down  to 
us  from  our  Norse  and  Teutonic  forefathers. 

R.  A.  B. 

Denver,  January  i,  1905. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Bend    lower,    king's   daughter  —  little   vala    with    eyes 

like   dewy   violets  ! ' " Frontispiece 

White  to  the   lips,   the  young   sea-king   turned   to  his 
enemy" 

"'Love!'  she   cried,  half  hissing  the  word.    'You  speak 
of  love, — you,  the  heathen   outlander!'"   .... 

"'Go,    Olvir!'   muttered   the   king,    thickly;  'go  —  before 

I   forget  that  I  once  loved  you'" 352 


FOR  THE  WHITE  CHRIST 


BOOK  ONE 

Now  death  has  seized  — 
Bale  and  terror  —  my  trusty  people, 
Laid  down  life  have  my  liegemen  all. ', 

BEOWULF. 


CHAPTER  I 


Swans  of  the  Dane-folk  — 
The  ships  of  Sigmund  — 


Heads  all  gilt  over, 
And  prows  fair  graven. 

LAY  OF  QUDRUN. 


ARLY  of  an  April  morning  of 
the  year  778,  a  broad-beamed 
Frisian  trade-ship  was  drifting 
with  the  ebb-tide  down  the 
Seine  estuary.  Wrapped  about 
by  the  morning  vapors,  the 
deeply  laden  little  craft  floated 
on  the  stream  like  a  dream- 
ship.  The  mists  shut  out  all 
view  of  sky  and  land  and  sea. 
From  the  quarter-deck,  the  two  men  beside  the  steer-oar 
could  scarcely  see  across  the  open  cargo-heaped  waist  to 
where,  gathered  silently  about  the  mast,  a  dozen  or  so 
drowsy  sailors  stood  waiting  for  the  morning  breeze. 

The  remainder  of  the  crew  lay  sprawled  upon  the 
casks  and  bales  of  merchandise,  side  by  side  with  a  score 
of  Frankish  warriors.  All  alike  were  heavy  with  drunken 
slumber.  The  shipmaster,  a  squat  red-haired  man  of  great 
girth,  regarded  the  overcome  wassailers  with  an  indifferent 
eye;  but  the  tall  warrior  beside  him  appeared  far  from 
pleased  by  the  sight. 

"  Is  it  so  you  rule  your  ship,  Frisian?  "  he  demanded. 
"  You  should  have  stopped  the  wassail  by  midnight.  Here 
we  swim  on  the  treacherous  sea,  while  our  men  lie  in 
drunken  stupor," 


J  T 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  We  are  yet  in  the  stream,  lord  count,"  replied  the 
shipmaster.  "  As  to  my  Frisians,  a  dash  of  salt  water  will 
soon  rouse  them.  If  your  landsmen  are  farther  gone,  what 
odds?  Drunk  or  sober,  they'll  be  alike  useless  when  we 
strike  rough  seas." 

The  Frank's  face  lit  with  a  smile  as  quick  as  its  frown. 

"  There  you  are  mistaken,  Frisian,"  he  said.  "  A  man 
may  bear  the  wild  waters  no  love,  yet  owe  them  no  fear. 
Twice  I  have  crossed  this  narrow  sea,  as  envoy  of  our 
Lord  Karl  to  the  kings  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  and  my 
henchmen  sailed  with  me." 

"  Yours  are  king's  men,  lord  count,  —  all  busked  like 
chiefs." 

"  Man  for  man,  I  would  pit  them  against  the  followers 
of  any  leader.  Better  a  few  picked  warriors,  so  armed, 
than  twice  their  number  of  common  freemen." 

"Well  said!"  muttered  the  Frisian;  "a  choice  fol- 
lowing. I  'd  wager  on  them,  even  against  Dane  steel  — 
except  the  sea-wolves  of  Olvir  Elfkin." 

"  Olvir  Elfkin?  You  speak  of  a  liegeman  of  Sigfrid, 
King  of  the  Nordmannian  Danes?" 

"  No,  lord  count ;  Earl  Olvir  is  far  too  proud  to  let 
himself  be  called  the  man  of  any  king.  I  sail  far  on 
my  trade-farings.  At  the  fair  of  Gardariki,  across  the 
great  gulf  from  the  Swedes,  I  saw  the  Norse  hero.  His 
father  was  one-time  king  of  the  Trondir,  a  folk  who  dwell 
beneath  the  very  eaves  of  the  ice-giants.  His  mother  was 
an  elf-maiden  from  the  far  Eastland.  Another  time  I  will 
tell  you  that  tale,  lord  count.  I  had  it  from  Floki  the 
Crane,  my  Norse  sword-brother.  But  now  I  speak  of  Earl 
Olvir's  following.  He  is  so  famed  in  the  North  that  the 
greatest  heroes  think  it  honor  to  fight  beneath  his  banner; 
and  he  rules  the  mail-clad  giants  as  our  great  King  Karl 
rules  his  counts.  Six  seasons  in  all  he  has  come  swooping 

18 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

south  from  his  ice-cliffs  to  harry  the  coasts  of  Jutland  and 
Nordmannia;  and  though  even  now  he  is  little  more  than 
a  bairn  in  years,  each  time  that  he  steered  about  for  his 
home  fiord  he  left  a  war-trail  of  sunken  longships  to  mark 
his  outbound  course." 

"  I  heard  much  of  such  sea-fights  from  that  mighty 
Dane  hero  Otkar,  —  he  who  went  over  to  King  Desiderius 
and  fought  against  our  Lord  Karl  in  the  Lombard  war." 

"  Ay ;  who  has  not  heard  of  Otkar  Jotuntop,  —  Otkar 
the  Dane?  This  very  Earl  Olvir  of  whom  I  spoke  is  of 
kin  to  the  hero." 

"  Even  I  have  heard  of  Lord  Otkar,"  called  out  a 
childish  voice,  and  the  speaker  sprang  lightly  up  the  deck 
ladder.  She  was  a  lissome  little  maiden,  barely  out  of! 
childhood,  yet  possessed  of  an  unconscious  dignity  of  look 
and  bearing  that  well  matched  her  rich  costume. 

The  warrior  bowed  low  to  her  half-shy,  half-gay  greet- 
ing, and  smiling  down  into  her  violet  eyes,  he  replied  in 
a  tone  of  tender  deference,  "  The  Princess  Rothada  is 
early  awake.  Shall  I  not  call  the  tiring- woman?  " 

The  girl  put  up  her  hand  to  touch  the  coronet  which 
bound  her  chestnut  hair,  and  her  glance  passed  in  naive 
admiration  down  the  gold-embroidered  border  of  her  loose- 
sleeved  overdress. 

"  Princess !  princess !  "  she  cried  gayly.  "  To  think 
that  only  four  days  have  gone  since  with  Gisela  and  the 
other  maidens  I  waited  upon  the  blessed  sisters !  And  now 
I  wear  a  ring  and  silken  dresses,  and  the  greatest  war* 
count  of  the  king  my  father  —  but  are  you  not  my  kins- 
man, lord  count?  " 

"  Your  cousin,  little  princess.  My  mother  was  a  sister 
of  our  lord  king." 

"  Then  you  shall  no  longer  call  me  princess,  but 
Rothada,  and  I  shall  call  you  Roland.  Few  maidens  can 

19 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


own  kinsmen  so  tall  and  grand ! "  and  Rothada  stared 
up  in  half-awed  admiration  at  the  count's  war-dinted 
helmet  and  shining  scale-hauberk. 

The  warrior's  blue  eyes  glowed,  but  there  was  no 
vanity  with  his  frank  pleasure. 

"Saint  Michael  give  me  skill  to  shield  you  from  all 
harm ! "  he  said. 

"Surely  he  has  already  strengthened  your  arm.  In 
all  the  land  you  stand  second  only  to  the  king  my  father ! 
—  But  you  spoke  of  Otkar  the  Dane.  Tell  me  more 
about  him,  cousin.  Already  I  know  that  he  was  a  heathen 
count  from  the  far  North,  more  learned  than  any  monk 
or  priest,  and  in  battle  mightier  even  than  my  father. 
Two  winters  ago  there  came  to  Chelles  a  maiden  who. 
knew  many  tales  of  the  Saxon  and  Lombard  wars, — 
Fastrada  —  " 

Roland's  cheeks  flushed,  and  he  stooped  forward 
eagerly. 

"Fastrada!"  he  exclaimed.    "You  knew  her?" 

"  For  a  winter's  time  —  " 

"  You  will  meet  her  again.  She  is  now  one  of  the 
queen's  maidens,  —  the  fairest  of  them  all." 

"Then  you  like  her,  cousin,"  replied  Rothada,  with 
innocent  candor.  "  It  was  different  with  Gisela  and  me. 
Many  of  the  maidens  feared  her,  and  she  broke  the  holy 
rules  and  talked  so  much  of  warriors  that  the  good  abbess 
sent  her  away.  Yet  that  is  long  since  —  she  may  have 
changed." 

"  None  could  but  like  her  now,  child,"  replied  Roland, 
softly.  Yet  even  as  he  spoke,  some  unwelcome  thought 
blotted  the  smile  from  his  face.  He  frowned  and  stared 
moodily  out  into  the  wavering  mists. 

The  girl  followed  his  look,  and  the  sight  of  the  water 
alongside  recalled  her  to  the  present. 

20 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  See,  kinsman,"  she  said,  with  a  sudden  return  of 
gayety,  "  the  sailors  spread  the  sail.  How  long  shall  we 
be  upon  the  sea  until  we  reach  the  Garonne?  " 

"  Were  we  travelling  by  land,  I  could  tell  you,  little 
princess.  But  I  am  no  sea-count.  Our  shipmaster  can 
best  answer  you." 

The  Frisian  turned  to  the  daughter  of  the  great  king 
with  an  uncouth  attempt  at  a  bow. 

"  Wind  and  wave  are  fickle,  maiden,  and  no  sea  is 
rougher  than  the  Vascon  Bay,"  he  grumbled.  "  But  with 
fair  wind  I  land  you  at  Casseneuil  while  the  lord  count's 
horsemen  yet  ride  in  Aquitania." 

"That  I  doubt,  man,"  said  Roland.  "Yet  here  is 
promise  of  fair  sailing.  The  sun  melts  the  mists,  and  with 
it  conies  the  breeze  to  sweep  them  away." 

"Ay;  the  fog  breaks.  Between  sun  and  wind  we'll 
see  both  shores  before  the  ship  gains  full  headway." 

"  I  already  see  —  Look,  man !  Can  we  be  so  close 
inshore?  What  flashes  so  brightly?" 

The  Frisian  wheeled  about,  an  anxious  frown  lowering 
beneath  his  shaggy  forelock.  His  alarm  was  only  too  well 
founded.  A  puff  of  the  freshening  breeze  swept  before 
it  the  last  bank  of  vapor,  and  revealed  with  startling  clear- 
ness two  grim  black  hulls,  along  whose  sweeping  bulwarks 
hung  rows  of  yellow  shields.  On  the  lofty  prows  shone 
the  gilded  dragon-heads  whose  glitter  had  first  caught 
Roland's  eye.  The  single  masts  were  bare  of  yard  and  sail ; 
but  along  each  side  a  dozen  or  more  great  sweeps  thrust  out 
beneath  the  scaly  shield-row  like  the  legs  of  a  dragon. 

"  Danes ! "  gasped  the  Frisian,  and  from  the  grimly 
beautiful  viking  ships,  every  line  of  which  spoke  of  grace 
and  speed,  he  turned  a  despairing  eye  upon  his  clumsy 
trade-ship. 

"  Lost !   lost ! "  he  cried.    "  Already  they  come  about 

21 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

to  give  chase  —  Garpike  and  the  lame  duck !  Paul  seize 
all  vikings ! " 

"  No,  Frisian,"  rejoined  Roland.  "  These,  in  truth, 
are  war-ships;  yet  they  come  in  peace.  Dane  or  other, 
they  dare  not  attack  us  on  the  coast  of  Neustria." 

As  though  in  retort  to  this  proud  boast,  a  red  shield 
swung  up  to  each  Danish  masthead,  and  across  the  water 
rolled  a  fierce  war-cry.  Roused  by  the  wild  shout,  all 
the  sleepers  in  the  trade-ship's  waist  sprang  to  their  feet. 
But  while  the  Frisians  huddled  about  the  mast  like  fright- 
ened sheep,  the  Franks  met  the  sudden  danger  with  the 
steadiness  of  seasoned  warriors.  At  a  sign  from  their 
lord,  they  crept  aft,  sword  and  axe  in  hand,  and  crouched 
on  the  deck  behind  the  bulwarks.  As  they  made  ready 
for  battle,  Roland  caught  up  the  hand  of  Rothada,  who 
stood  gazing  at  the  viking  ships  in  mingled  terror  and 
admiration. 

"  Princess,"  he  said,  "  the  heathen  shoot  far  with  bow 
and  sling.  It  is  time  you  sought  shelter  below.  For  a 
while  you  can  there  lie  in  safety." 

"But  you,  cousin?  The  Dane  ships  swarm  with 
warriors.  You  and  your  men  will  all  be  slain!  Do  not 
fight  them,  Roland!  Let  there  be  no  bloodshed." 

"  A  wise  maiden !  "  cried  the  shipmaster.  "  Mark  the 
odds,  —  one  stroke  brings  death  to  us  all.  Yield,  lord 
Frank!  What  if  they  give  two  or  three  to  Odin?  The 
rest  they  '11  spare  for  thralls  or  set  free  for  wergild." 

"  Ah,  Roland,  yield,  then !  Do  not  anger  the  terrible 
heathen.  My  father  will  soon  ransom  us." 

"And  what  will  he  say  to  his  daughter's  faithless 
warder,  —  to  the  coward  who,  without  a  blow,  yielded  a 
king's  child  into  heathen  thraldom?  —  By  my  sword,  the 
Danes  take  you  only  over  the  corpse  of  the  last  Frank  in 
this  ship!" 

22 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

But  proudly  as  he  spoke,  when  he  swung  the  girl 
down  from  the  deck,  the  count's  heart  sickened  at  thought 
of  her  helplessness.  How  would  the  little  cloister-maiden 
fare  in  the  hands  of  the  fierce  sea-thieves?  The  anguish 
of  the  thought  filled  him  with  renewed  rage.  He  gripped 
his  sword-hilt. 

"  Now  to  die,  with  a  score  of  Danes  for  death-bed," 
he  muttered. 

Then  a  sudden  hope  flashed  from  his  blue  eyes.  He 
seized  the  steersman  by  the  shoulder,  and  shouted  joy- 
fully: "  Ho,  Frisian;  we  may  yet  go  free!  Cast  over  the 
cargo !  The  breeze  freshens ;  we  '11  outsail  the  thieves !  " 

"  Only  another  viking  could  do  that  —  yet  the  cloth 
bales  will  float  —  the  Danes  may  linger  to  pick  them 
up.  A  good  trick,  if  old —  But  what —  Curse  of  the 
foul  fiend!  Look  to  seaward  —  three  more  longships  — 
across  our  course !  " 

"The  race  is  run!  Strike  sail,  man,  and  go  forward 
to  your  sailors.  You  and  they  may  so  save  your  skins. 
I  and  my  men  die  here." 

"  I,  too,  can  die,"  answered  the  shipmaster,  stolidly, 
and  he  drew  a  curved  sword-knife  from  his  belt. 

"  Go ;   you  wear  no  war-gear,"  commanded  Roland. 

"  I  will  fight  berserk,  as  they  say  in  the  North." 

"Then  take  my  shield,  and  with  it  the  thanks  of 
a  Prankish  count.  No  braver  man  ever  fought  beside 
me." 

The  Frisian  took  the  shield,  unmoved  by  the  praise. 

"  Once  I  had  a  Northman  for  sword-fellow.  They 
called  him  Floki  the  Crane.  From  him  I  learned  the  ways 
of  vikings.  They  know  how  to  die." 

"  No  less  do  my  henchmen,"  rejoined  Roland,  and  he 
shook  the  great  mane  of  tawny  hair  which  fell  about  his 
shoulders.  Here  was  no  Romanized  Neustrian,  tainted 

23 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


and  weakened  by  the  vices  of  a  corrupt  civilization,  but 
a  German  warrior,  —  an  Austrasian  of  pure  blood.  He 
watched  the  approaching  Danes,  eager  for  battle. 

The  Frisian,  as  he  slipped  the  shield  upon  his  arm, 
stared  at  the  Frank  with  a  look  of  dull  admiration.  But 
when  an  arrow  whistled  close  overhead,  he  wheeled 
hastily  about  and  shouted  command  to  strike  sail.  The 
order  was  obeyed  with  zeal,  for  the  crew  stood  trembling 
in  dread  of  the  Danish  missiles.  Down,  rushed  the  great 
wool  sheet,  and  an  exultant  shout  rolled  out  from  the 
pursuing  longships.  Count  Roland  smiled  grimly. 

"Hearken,  men!"  he  said;  "the  heathen  think  we 
yield.  They  lay  aside  bow  and  sling.  All  will  be  axe  and 
sword  play.  They  shall  learn  the  taste  of  Prankish 
steel!" 

The  Frisian  shook  his  head :  "  No,  no,  lord  count. 
They  '11  board  on  either  quarter,  and  overwhelm  us.  Your 
men  are  too  scattered.  The  Danes  —  " 

"  No,  by  my  sword !    The  leading  craft  sheers  off." 

"  She  steers  to  meet  the  seaward  ships !  The  Norns 
smile  upon  us,  Frank.  We  are  doomed;  but  many  a 
Dane  goes  before  us  to  Hel's  Land ! " 

"  Brave  words,  man,  though  strange  on  the  lips  of 
a  Christian,"  replied  Roland,  and  he  drew  his  short-hafted 
battle-axe.  "  Now,  men,  make  ready.  The  Dane  ship 
closes  like  a  hound  on  the  deer's  flank.  It  will  find  the 
stag  at  bay!  When  I  cast  my  axe,  leap  up  and  strike 
for  Christ  and  king." 

A  low  murmur  came  back  from  the  crouching  Franks, 
and  they  gripped  their  weapons  with  added  firmness.  ; 
They  were  picked  men,  who  had  fought  in  all  the  wars 
of  Karl  and  of  Pepin  his  father.  One,  a  hoary  giant  of 
sixty,  could  even  boast  that  as  a  boy  he  had  swung  a  sword 
in  the  fateful  battle  of  Tours,  when  Karl  the  Hammer 
24 


;*** 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

had  shattered  the  conquering  hosts  of  Mohammed.  Death 
had  no  terrors  for  such  iron-hearted  warriors.  All  they 
asked  was  the  chance  to  sell  their  lives  dearly.  Like 
hunted  wolves,  they  lay  in  wait,  while  the  shouting 
Danes  rowed  up  to  seize  their  prize. 


CHAPTER  II 


Thought  shall  be  the  harder,  heart  the  keener, 
Mood  shall  be  the  more,  as  our  might  lessens. 
Grief  and  sorrow  forever 
On  the  man  that  leaves  this  sword-play! 

SONG  OF  MALDON. 

LREADY     the     longship     lay 
close    astern.     A    harsh    com- 
^  m  mand  sent  the  oars  rattling  in 

S    V  through  their  ports;   and  as  the 

£       [  dragon    prow    overlapped    the 

•  flank   of   the    quarry,    a    dozen 

j .     M  grappling-hooks     fell     clanking 

V  across  the  bulwark.     Half  the 

longship's  crew  swarmed  in  the 
bows,  —  a  wild-eyed,  skin-clad 
band,  staring  with  fierce  greed  at  the  casks  and  bales  with 
which  the  trade-ship  was  laden.  None  of  them  looked  twice 
at  the  two  men  standing  so  quietly  in  the  middle  of  the 
deck.  In  their  eagerness  for  loot,  all  pressed  forward  to 
board  the  trade-ship,  and  so  little  did  they  dream  of  resist- 
ance that  many  bore  their  weapons  sheathed. 

They  were  soon  to  learn  their  mistake.  As  the 
first  Dane  leaped  upon  the  bulwark,  Roland  swept  his 
axe  overhead  and  hurled  it  at  the  luckless  viking. 
Across  the  front  the  Dane's  "wolfskin  serk  was  thickly 
sewn  with  iron  rings;  but  the  axe-blade  shore  through 
iron  and  hide  like  cloth,  and  buried  itself  in  the  viking's 
breast. 

26 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


The  surprise  could  not  have  been  more  complete.  As 
the  axe  flashed  over  their  heads,  the  hidden  warriors 
sprang  up  and  fell  upon  the  Danes  with  all  the  fury  of 
despair.  Their  lord  and  the  Frisian  sprang  forward  beside 
them,  and  the  Prankish  blades  threshed  across  the  bul- 
warks in  swift  strokes  that  cut  down  a  dozen  vikings 
before  they  could  guard  themselves.  More  in  astonish- 
ment than  dismay,  the  foremost  Danes  recoiled  upon  their 
fellows,  causing  a  jam  and  confusion  that  prolonged  the 
vantage  of  the  Franks.  Like  flails  the  weapons  of  the 
grey  warriors  beat  upon  the  round  shields  of  the  heathen. 

"Strike!  strike!"  they  shouted  in  the  fierce  joy  of 
battle.  "  Christ  and  king  !  Down  with  the  pagans  ! 
death  to  the  sea-thieves!" 

On  the  right  the  shipmaster  thrust  his  pointed  sword- 
knife  into  the  faces  of  the  enemy;  on  the  left  the  axe  of 
the  hoary  giant  of  Tours  fell  like  Thor's  hammer  ;  while  be- 
tween the  two,  Roland,  wielding  his  sword  in  both  hands, 
cut  down  a  Dane  with  every  blow.  His  eyes  flashed  with 
the  fire  of  battle,  and  as  he  struck  he  shouted  tauntingly  : 
"Ho,  Danes!  ho,  sea-  thieves!  here  is  sword-play!  Run, 
cast  your  spears  from  shelter  !  Frank  steel  bites  deep  !  " 

The  answer  was  a  roar  of  fury.  The  death  of  their 
fellows  only  roused  the  Danes  to  wild  rage.  Their  huge 
bodies  quivered,  and  eyes  yet  more  fiery  than  Roland's 
flamed  with  the  battle-light.  The  air  rang  with  the  clash  of 
weapons,  and  the  terrible  war-cry  swelled  into  a  deafening 
roar,-—  "  Thor  aid!  Thoraid!  Death  to  the  Frank  dogs  !" 

In  a  mass  the  vikings  surged  forward  and  leaped  at 
the  bulwark.  Vainly  the  Franks  sought  to  withstand  the 
shock.  The  crashing  strokes  of  Roland's  sword  kept  clear 
all  the  space  within  its  sweep;  but  on  either  side  the 
vikings  burst  across  the  bulwark  in  overwhelming  num- 
bers. Shield  clashed  against  shield,  and  blades  beat  upon 

37 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

helmet  and  hauberk  with  the  clang  of  a  hundred  smithies. 
No  warriors  could  long  withstand  such  odds.  Down  went 
the  Frisian  under  the  blade  of  a  berserk  axe,  and  after 
him  fell  the  old  giant  of  Tours,  a  throttled  Dane  in  his 
grip.  Then  four  more  Franks  fell,  all  together,  and  the 
whole  line  reeled  back  across  the  deck.  The  defence  was 
broken.  The  Danes  yelled  in  fierce  triumph  and  surged 
forward  to  thrust  their  handful  of  foes  over  into  the  sea. 
Many  warriors  so  hard  pressed  would  have  flung  down 
their  weapons  and  begged  for  quarter.  Not  so  the  hench- 
men of  the  king's  kin. 

"  Back  to  back !  "  called  their  count,  and  for  a  moment 
he  checked  the  Danish  rush  by  the  sweep  of  his  single 
sword.  Brief  as  was  the  respite,  it  gave  his  followers 
time  to  rally.  They  sprang  together  and  ringed  about 
their  leader  in  a  shieldburg  that  all  the  wild  fury  of  the 
vikings  could  not  break.  Like  their  lord,  these  grey 
warriors  were  Rhinemen  of  pure  German  blood.  Between 
them  and  their  foes  was  slight  difference  other  than  the 
veneer  of  a  nominal  Christianity.  Drunk  with  the  wine 
of  battle,  they  whirled  their  reddened  blades  and  rejoiced 
to  slay  and  be  slain  in  Odin's  game.  One  by  one,  they 
staggered  and  fell,  striking  even  in  the  death-agony. 
Those  who  were  left  only  narrowed  their  ring  to  close 
the  gaps,  and  fought  on. 

Of  all  the  virtues,  Northman  and  Teuton  alike  gave 
first  place  to  courage.  Wonder  seized  the  Danes  at  the 
very  height  of  their  blood-fury.  Never  before  had  even 
they,  the  fierce  sea-wolves,  witnessed  such  sword-play. 
Overcome  by  admiration,  many  drew  back  as  the  last  few 
Franks  fell  dying.  When  Roland  stood  alone  within  their 
circle,  by  common  impulse  they  lowered  their  weapons 
and  shouted  to  spare  the  hero.  Only  one  voice  dissented 
—  but  it  was  the  voice  of  the  Danish  chief. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  sea-king  had  been  steering  his  ship,  and  so  unex- 
pected and  furious  was  the  fight  that  its  end  came  before 
he  could  force  a  way  through  the  press  of  his  own  men. 
Enraged  that  he  had  failed  to  come  to  blows,  he  now 
pushed  to  the  front,  a  grand  and  imposing  figure  in  his 
scale  hauberk  and  gold- winged  helmet.  But  beneath  the 
helmet's  bright  rim  lowered  a  face  more  brutal  and  fero- 
cious than  a  Saxon  outlaw's. 

"  Way ! "  he  shouted ;  and  as  the  vikings  parted,  he 
stepped  over  the  slain  to  where  Roland  leaned  heavily 
upon  his  sword. 

"So-ho!"  he  jeered,  and  he  eyed  the  gasping  Frank 
with  cruel  satisfaction.  "  They  breed  bears  in  the  South 
worth  the  baiting." 

Roland's  eyes  flashed  as  he  answered :  "  Heathen 
boar!  you  may  well  talk  of  baiting.  Count  your  men  who 
have  fallen.  Had  I  half  my  strength,  I  'd  send  you  with 
them  to  burn  in  Tartarus ! " 

"  Had  you  all  your  strength,  Frank,  I  should  strike 
off  your  hands  with  Ironbiter  my  sword,  and  cast  you 
overboard  to  the  sea-god.  As  it  is,  I  '11  take  you  thrall 
and  break  your  back  on  Thor's  Stone  at  the  Winter  Sacri- 
fice. Next  Yule  the  followers  of  Hroar  the  Cruel  shall 
drink  to  Thor  and  Frey  from  the  skull  of  Earl  Roland,  the 
kin  of  the  Frank  king." 

The  count  started  in  astonishment. 

"  Tell  me,  Dane ! "  he  cried ;  "  how  do  you  know  my 
name?  Not  by  chance  did  you  lie  in  the  Seine  Mouth! " 

"  True,  thrall ;  I  can  swear  to  that,"  answered  Hroar, 
and  he  laughed.  "  Be  certain  I  would  not  risk  King 
Sigfrid's  longships  thus  far  south  without  sure  gain.  It 
is  no  harm  to  speak  truth  to  a  man  who  is  doomed, — 
dead  men  tell  no  tales.  May  you  have  joy  of  your 
answer!" 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  I  laugh  at  death.    Now  tell  me,  Dane ! " 

"  Know  then,  my  merry  thrall,  that  tidings  of  your 
sailing  flew  to  Nordmannia  straight  from  the  hall  of  your 
king.  Sigfrid  had  word  from  Wittikind  the  Saxon,  and  he 
from  well-wishers  across  the  Rhine.  Not  all  your  king's 
foes  dwell  without  his  borders.  Some  speak  Prankish  for 
mother-tongue  —  " 

"  You  lie!    No  Frank  is  traitor." 

Hroar  only  laughed  and  answered  jeeringly :  "  Maybe 
a  little  bird  told  how  Earl  Roland  should  sail  south  from 
the  Seine  with  the  Frank  king's  daughter,  —  a  little  bird 
in  Frankish  plumage.  He  sang  a  golden  song  for  me. 
Your  ship  rides  deep  with  her  cargo,  and  Frisian  thralls 
fetch  a  good  price  at  the  Gardariki  fair.  —  But  I  would 
see  your  princess.  If  she  is  young  and  comely,  I  may 
have  other  use  for  her  than  to  grind  meal." 

At  the  brutal  words,  fury  seized  upon  Roland.  His 
eyes  blazed,  and  rage  lent  sudden  strength  to  his  tottering 
frame. 

"  Heathen  dog ! "  he  gasped ;  "  never  shall  your  eyes 
look  on  Rothada !  " 

Before  Hroar  could  guard  or  leap  aside,  the  Frank's 
sword  swung  overhead  and  whirled  down  upon  his  helmet 
like  a  sledge.  Had  the  casque  been  of  common  make, 
Hroar  would  have  met  his  fate  on  the  spot.  As  it  was, 
the  blow  beat  a  great  dint  in  the  gilded  steel  and  sent  the 
sea-king  reeling  backward,  stunned  and  blinded.  A  dozen 
vikings  sprang  between  to  shield  him,  but  Roland's  sword 
dropped  at  their  feet.  Faint  from  loss  of  blood,  and  utterly 
spent  by  that  last  great  blow,  the  count  swayed  forward. 
-Darkness  shut  out  from  him  the  ring  of  shouting  heathen. 
He  fell  swooning  upon  the  heap  of  corpses. 

"  A  champion !  a  champion !  The  Frank  has  won 
his  freedom ! "  cried  the  vikings,  and  they  pressed  about 

30 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

to  raise  the  fallen  warrior.  Heedless  of  their  own  wounds, 
they  sought  to  bind  up  his  injuries.  Their  warlike  but 
generous  natures  yielded  homage  to  the  hero  who  had 
met  overwhelming  odds  without  dismay  and  had  struck 
a  berserk  blow  even  when  falling.  They  forgot  the 
boasted  cruelty  of  their  leader. 

Never  before  had  the  sea-king  suffered  such  a  helmet 
stroke.  For  several  moments  he  stood  dazed,  blinking 
at  the  stars  which  flashed  before  his  eyes,  while  his  head 
hummed  like  a  kettle.  Then  his  vision  cleared,  and  he 
saw  what  his  men  were  about.  Into  their  midst  he  sprang, 
gnashing  his  teeth  like  a  wolf. 

"  Aside,  dogs !  "  he  yelled.  "  Give  me  my  thrall.  I 
will  tear  out  his  lying  tongue ! " 

The  Danes  gave  back  before  the  threatening  dagger 
of  their  chief,  and  he  sprang  upon  his  victim  with  a  yell 
of  triumph.  The  Frank  should  pay  dearly  for  that  blow! 

Some  of  the  milder  vikings  muttered  against  the  deed. 
This  Frank  was  no  whining  coward,  no  low-born  out- 
lander,  but  a  fair-haired  hero,  such  as  the  Sigurds  and 
Beowulf s  of  the  olden  days. 

At  the  best,  the  Danes  bore  little  love  for  the  cruel 
Jutland  champion  whom  King  Sigfrid  had  set  over  them. 
So  now  they  murmured  openly.  But  Hroar  was  no  less 
fearless  than  he  was  cruel.  Regardless  of  their  protests, 
he  turned  the  fallen  Frank  upon  his  back.  No  wolf  ever 
fell  upon  his  prey  with  fiercer  greed. 

Already  he  had  set  about  his  deed,  when  a  cry  of  sur- 
prise from  his  followers  caused  him  to  look  up.  The 
crowd  had  opened,  and  through  the  midst  of  the  warriors 
came  a  little  child-maid,  the  like  of  whom  the  brutal  Dane 
had  never  seen.  Utterly  lost  to  self  in  her  fear  for  her 
kinsman,  the  girl  advanced  with  outstretched  arms,  her 
tender  eyes  full  of  reproach,  her  pure  young  face  aglow 


I 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

with  spiritual  light.  Had  she  been  Skuld,  youngest  of  the 
Norns,  the  Dane  could  not  have  been  more  astonished. 
He  glared  at  the  child  in  dull  wonder.  Could  this  be 
Freya's  maid,  —  Gifion,  Goddess  of  Innocence  and  Maiden- 
hood? At  the  thought,  he  started  back,  a  superstitious 
dread  clutching  at  his  heart.  But  when  the  first  shock  of 
surprise  had  passed,  he  perceived  the  Prankish  fashion  of 
the  girl's  double  tunic  and  the  circlet  that  marked  her  rank. 

"  Spawn  of  Loki ! "  he  snarled.  "  It 's  only  the  Frank 
king's  daughter." 

"  I  am  Rothada,  and  Karl  the  King  is  my  father,"  said 
the  girl,  with  simple  dignity.  "Are  you  not  the  Dane 
count?  " 

Hroar  scowled  assent. 

"  Speak,"  he  said. 

The  girl's  courage  began  to  falter  before  the  ferocity 
of  the  sea-king's  stare,  and,  shuddering,  she  gazed  about 
her  at  the  heaps  of  dead  and  wounded  warriors.  But  she 
saw  friendly  looks  upon  many  of  the  viking  faces,  and 
forgot  her  fears  once  more  in  the  thought  of  her  fellow- 
captives. 

"  I  come  to  offer  ransom,"  she  said,  —  "  wergild  for  all 
who  yet  live.  My  father  will  pay  for  every  one,  —  Frank 
and  Frisian  alike." 

"Doubtless!"  sneered  Hroar.  "But  we  will  talk  of 
that  in  Nordmannia  before  King  Sigfrid.  Wittikind  may 
have  a  word  to  say  in  the  matter.  One  thrall  at  least 
I  keep  as  my  share  of  the  loot.  Stand  aside  while  I  put 
my  mark  on  him." 

For  the  second  time  the  Dane  turned  to  his  victim. 
But  Rothada  was  quicker  than  he.  With  a  piteous  cry 
for  mercy,  she  flung  herself  upon  Roland  and  sought  to 
shield  him  from  the  knife  with  her  own  slender  body. 
The  sight  would  have  melted  any  heart  that  held  the 

32 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

slightest  trace  of  nobleness.  It  stirred  the  vikings  to  open 
mutiny.  They  renewed  their  protests,  with  deeper  menace 
in  their  tones,  and  when  Hroar  bent  and  grasped  the 
maiden  roughly  by  the  shoulder,  one  of  the  foremost 
swung  up  his  sword. 

"  Stay,  Hroar !  "  he  commanded.  "  I  am  not  used  to 
looking  on  at  foul  deeds.  You  must  first  pluck  out  my 
eyes  before  you  take  the  Frank's  tongue." 

"  Ay,  and  mine !  "  growled  a  second  viking. 

Hroar  stood  erect  and  glared  at  the  daring  men.  But 
neither  gave  way  before  his  terrible  look.  They  had  the 
backing  of  their  fellows.  The  sea-king  saw  this,  yet  his 
hand  went  to  the  hilt  of  his  heavy  sword.  The  fight  was 
averted,  none  too  soon,  by  a  scarred  old  berserk. 

"  Bear  wisdom  to  Urd !  "  he  called  scomngly.  "  Hroar 
bickers  with  his  wolves,  while  the  Norse  hawks  swoop 
upon  him." 

At  the  warning,  every  Dane  aboard  the  trade-ship 
wheeled  about  and  stared  seaward.  The  harsh  alarm  of 
a  war-horn,  braying  over  the  water,  was  not  needed  to 
explain  the  situation.  A  bowshot  away  they  saw  their 
second  longship  surging  at  full  speed  up  the  estuary.  A 
fountain  of  white  spray  spouted  from  under  its  forefoot, 
and  the  boiling  sea  alongside,  threshed  to  foam  by  the  oar- 
blades,  told  that  every  bench  was  full,  every  rower  pulling 
to  the  utmost  of  his  strength.  Not  without  cause !  Close 
in  the  Dane's  wake  the  three  longships  of  the  outer  estuary 
came  gliding  over  the  water  in  swift  pursuit.  Each  lay 
far  over  under  the  pressure  of  its  great  square  sail,  and 
from  the  mail-clad  crews  packed  along  the  fighting  gang- 
way behind  the  weather  bulwarks,  rose  jeers  and  grim 
laughter  at  the  efforts  of  the  Danes  to  escape. 

"Norse!"  shouted  Hroar.  "Thor!  they  mean  to 
attack  us!  Aboard  ship  and  man  the  oars  —  yet  stay! 
3  33 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

First  scuttle  the  trader.  We  leave  no  booty  for  the 
fiordmen ! " 

"  They  strike  sail !  "  cried  the  old  berserk.  "  Wait  a 
little.  They  do  not  swing  the  red  shield.  It  may  be  a 
jest." 

"  A  bitter  jest  —  Ho !  the  foremost  comes  on  alone. 
Aboard  ship,  all,  and  stand  ready  to  cast  off.  I  wait  the 
Norse  earl  here." 


CHAPTER  III 

Thou  the  bane  of  thy  brothers  wast, 

The  chief  of  thy  kin,  —  whence  curse  of  Hel 

Awaits  thee,  good  as  thy  wits  may  be  ! 

BEOWULF. 

T  the  alarm  of  the  Danes,  the 
trembling  heart  of  the  little 
princess  leaped  with  joy.  But 
the  sudden  hope  gave  way  as 
quickly  to  renewed  terror.  Why 
should  the  cruel  sea-count  linger 
on  the  trade-ship  alone  if  not  to 
carry  out  his  ferocious  revenge? 
Closer  than  ever  the  girl  clasped 
the  senseless  warrior  in  her 
arms,  until  the  blood  from  his  wounded  head  seeped  warm 
through  her  silken  kirtle,  and  the  bell-like  rim  of  his 
helmet  bruised  her  tender  bosom. 

Breathless,  she  listened  to  the  rush  and  outcry  of  the 
vikings  as  with  their  wounded  fellows  they  poured  back 
into  the  longship.  Then,  in  the  lull  which  followed,  she 
could  hear  the  smothered  wail  of  her  tiring-woman, 
crouched  in  the  cubby  beneath  her.  Gaining  courage 
from  the  silence,  she  at  last  ventured  to  raise  her  head. 
She  saw  Hroar  at  the  farther  bulwark,  gazing  intently 
down  the  estuary.  He  did  not  move,  and  Rothada  rose 
timidly  to  look  around. 

The  second  Dane  ship  was  coming  about  only  a  few 
yards  astern;  but  its  crew,  like  the  crew  of  its  consort, 
were  far  too  intent  on  watching  the  Norse  ship  to  give 

35 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

heed  to  the  little  maiden.  Even  the  Frisian  sailors  had 
ceased  to  cower,  and  were  lined  along  the  bulwarks  for- 
ward, full  of  eager  hope  that  the  approaching  longship 
might  bring  them  a  change  of  masters.  Hroar's  cruelty 
was  only  too  well  known  throughout  Frisia. 

Rothada  also  gazed  at  the  stately  prow  of  the  stranger 
and  joined  in  the  longing  of  her  fellow-captives  that  the 
new-comers  would  seize  the  trade-ship  for  their  own.  But 
the  little  maiden's  faith  gave  her  still  fairer  hopes  than 
those  cherished  by  the  Frisians.  To  her  girlish  innocence, 
deliverance  now  seemed  certain.  She  had  only  to  appeal 
to  the  Norse  count,  and  he  would  accept  ransom  for  all. 
Tears  of  gratitude  shone  in  her  violet  eyes  as  she  stooped 
to  bind  up  with  deft  fingers  such  of  Roland's  wounds  as 
the  Danes  had  failed  to  stanch. 

Her  task  ended,  the  girl  started  up  again  to  gaze  over 
into  the  Norse  ship  as  it  glided  alongside.  The  vessel 
swarmed  with  huge  warriors,  whose  superiority  to  the 
Danes  both  in  discipline  and  armor  was  so  striking  that 
even  the  convent-bred  maiden  could  not  but  perceive  the 
difference.  Against  such  men,  even  had  the  odds  been 
reversed,  the  Danes  could  not  have  hoped  to  hold  their 
own. 

When  Rothada  comprehended  this,  she  clasped  her 
hands  in  joy  and  looked  eagerly  about  for  the  Norse 
leader.  A  small  blue  banner,  emblazoned  with  a  gold 
star,  fluttered  on  the  longship's  stern,  and  Rothada's  first 
thought  was  that  the  blond  viking  at  the  helm  beneath 
it  must  be  the  sea-king.  But  then,  standing  alone  in  the 
vessel's  prow,  she  saw  a  warrior  whom  even  she  could 
not  but  recognize  as  the  Norse  leader.  His  round  casque, 
though  wingless,  was  of  blue  steel  and  rimmed  with  a  gold 
band  in  whose  front  sparkled  a  garnet  star.  Even  more 
beautiful  was  the  young  sea-king's  serk,  or  coat,  of  ring- 

16 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

mail,  which  shimmered  in  the  sun  like  ice.  His  small 
round  shield  differed  from  the  usual  Norse  and  Prankish 
patterns  both  in  the  greater  convexity  of  its  shape  and  in 
the  material  of  its  face,  —  a  disc  of  hammered  steel.  Its 
bluish  surface,  polished  like  a  mirror,  was  traced  with  gold 
damascening  both  on  the  boss  and  on  the  thickened  rim. 

Yet  with  all  the  young  sea-king's  splendid  war-gear, 
so  slight  and  boyish  did  he  appear  in  contrast  to  his  fol- 
lowers that  Rothada  at  first  thought  he  could  be  little 
older  than  herself.  But  when  he  stepped  forward  and 
answered  Hroar's  hail,  it  was  with  a  haughtiness  of  tone 
and  bearing  far  other  than  childlike. 

Even  as  he  spoke,  the  Northman  sprang  upon  the 
bulwark  of  his  ship  and,  great  as  was  the  distance  which 
yet  separated  the  vessels,  leaped  for  the  trade-ship's  deck. 
With  a  cry  of  astonishment,  Hroar  sprang  sideways 
from  before  him,  down  upon  the  smooth  surface  of  the 
bales  of  goods  in  the  after  hold;  while  high  above  the 
water  the  leaper's  bright  figure  flashed  through  the  air  and 
shot  in  over  the  bulwark.  Lightly  as  a  panther,  the  North- 
man struck  the  deck  and  turned  instantly  to  confront  the 
Dane.  But  Hroar  stood  motionless,  overcome  with  wonder 
at  the  daring  leap,  and  did  not  seek  to  regain  the  deck. 

Seeing  that  there  was  no  danger  of  immediate  attack, 
the  Northman  lowered  his  shield  and  looked  about  with 
keen  glances  at  the  slaughtered  Franks  and  Danes. 

"Thor!"  he  cried,  "these  Rhinemen  fought  well. 
Would  that  I  had  led  the  heroes!  But  what's  this?-— 
a  Frank  yet  alive,  and  beside  him  a  child-maid ! " 

Now  entirely  heedless  of  the  Danish  sea-king,  the 
Northman  advanced  to  stare  at  the  forlorn  survivors  of 
Hroar's  attack.  Had  Rothada  possessed  her  cousin's 
knowledge  of  men  and  customs,  she  would  have  stared 
back  at  the  sea-king  in  bewilderment.  The  haughty  face 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


which  so  coldly  confronted  her  was  dark  and  oval,  with 
arched  nose,  lofty  brow,  and  black  eyes  of  intense  bright- 
ness, —  features  part  Arab,  part  Greek  in  character,  but 
in  no  respect  Norse.  Yet  the  young  chief's  hair  proved 
quite  as  fully  that  his  leadership  must  be  founded  on 
kingly  Norse  blood.  It  was  of  silky  fineness  and  curled 
down  beneath  his  helmet  rim  in  locks  like  burnished  red 
gold.  His  dress  also  was  that  of  a  king's  son.  The  cloak 
of  sable,  clasped  by  a  jewelled  brooch,  was  lined  with 
cloth  of  gold,  while  money-rings  coiled  their  yellow 
spirals  around  the  ring-mail  sleeves  which  extended  to 
his  wrists. 

Abashed  by  the  extreme  brightness  of  the  sea-king's 
gaze,  Rothada  lowered  her  admiring  eyes  to  the  splendid 
recurved  sword  which  swung  at  his  belt.  Roland  could 
have  told  her  that  the  weapon  was  a  sword  of  the  Saracen 
folk,  —  a  Damascus  blade,  which  would  bend  to  the  hilt 
without  snapping  and,  like  the  Wrath  of  Sigurd,  cut  alike 
through  iron  bars  and  floating  wool.  With  the  peace- 
thongs  knotted,  even  that  far-famed  blade  of  Regin's 
forging  could  not  have  compared  with  this  magnificent 
weapon,  whose  sheath  sparkled  with  gems,  and  upon 
whose  pommel  blazed  the  splendor  of  a  priceless  ruby. 

The  glint  of  gold  and  jewels  recalled  to  Rothada's 
mind  her  own  high  rank,  and  gave  her  courage  to  glance 
up  again.  At  sight  of  the  milder  light  in  the  dark  eyes  of 
the  sea-king,  she  raised  her  arms  to  him  appealingly. 

"  Bright  count  of  the  sea !  "  she  cried,  "  the  dear  Christ 
has  sent  you  to  save  us.  The  cruel  Dane's  knife  shall 
not  harm  my  kinsman !  " 

The  Northman  glanced  down  at  the  wounded  Frank. 

"  Who  is  this  warrior?  "  he  demanded. 

"  My  kinsman,  Count  Roland.  He  is  a  high  lord  of 
King  Karl,  my  father  —  " 

38 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"Your  father,  — the  Frank  king!"  cried  the  North- 
man, and  his  eyes  flashed  a  look  at  the  girl  that  made 
her  tremble.  But  again  their  keenness  softened,  and  he 
pointed  to  her  bosom. 

"  There  's  blood  upon  your  kirtle,"  he  muttered.  "  Do 
these  Danes  war  upon  babes  and  bairns?  " 

"  It  is  my  kinsman's  blood.  The  Dane  count  would 
have  harmed  him  as  he  lay  helpless.  I  tried  to  shield 
him." 

"  Bravely  done,  little  maiden !  Though  twice  over  the 
daughter  of  King  Karl,  the  deed  shall  count  you  good 
weight  in  the  balance.  Take  heart!  Not  all  vikings  are 
swine.  Olvir  Thorbiornson  does  not  war  upon  maids  and 
stricken  heroes.  Now  I  go  to  settle  with  this  Dane  boar 
who  rends  fallen  foes." 

"  It  is  time  to  cease  prattle,"  Hroar  called  up  jeer- 
ingly.  "  Come,  talk  with  a  warrior.  What  says  the  bairn 
with  outland  face?  Will  he  meet  a  sea-king  singly  in 
sword-play,  and  stake  the  trade-ship  as  prize?" 

At  the  challenge  a  strange  smile  lit  up  the  North- 
man's dark  face ;  but  he  replied  gravely :  "  A  shrewd 
bargain,  Dane !  You  would  have  me  fight  for  what  I  need 
only  reach  out  my  hand  to  take.  First  tell  me  your 
name." 

"  You  're  late  from  your  mother's  bower,  bairn.  Few 
vikings  ask  the  name  of  Hroar  the  Cruel." 

"Hroar!  Hroar  the  Cruel!"  repeated  the  North- 
man, in  a  smothered  voice.  His  hand  closed  on  the  hilt 
of  his  sword,  and  his  face  went  white  with  anger.  Had 
Hroar  seen  the  look  in  his  eyes,  he  would  not  have  grinned 
at  his  pallor  or  at  the  soft  lisping  voice  in  which  the  North- 
man answered :  "  Go,  bid  your  other  ship  make  fast.  All 
craft  shall  lie  quiet  while  I  make  an  end  of  Hroar  the 
Cruel." 

39 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


m 


The  Dane  laughed  derisively,  yet  turned  to  repeat 
to  his  own  crew  the  command  which  the  Northman 
shouted  over  the  opposite  bulwark.  Soon  all  six  ships 
were  drifting  abreast  on  the  stream,  —  the  two  Danes  on 
one  side  of  the  trader,  the  three  Norse  craft  on  the  other. 
The  Danish  crews  kept  warily  aboard  their  ships,  ready 
either  for  fight  or  flight.  But  as  the  first  Norse  ship 
grappled,  from  its  prow  a  blond  young  giant  leaped,  axe 
in  hand,  sheer  over  Hroar's  head,  and  down  upon  the 
cargo  beyond  him. 

"Loki!"  cried  Hroar,  starting  back.  "  Erling  Fair- 
hair!  The  dead  come  to  life!" 

"  Your  guilt  stings  you,  murderer,"  rejoined  Olvir. 
"  This  is  only  Liutrad,  son  of  Erling  —  but  he  bears  his 
father's  axe;  and  now  comes  one  —  " 

"Ha,  Floki  — Floki  the  Crane!"  gasped  Hroar;  and 
he  glared  like  a  trapped  wolf  at  the  strange  viking 
who  sprang  down  over  the  bulwark  after  young  Liutrad. 
Though  little  broader  than  his  fellow-Northmen,  the  man 
towered  up  a  good  span  above  seven  feet  in  height,  and 
the  long-shafted  halberd  which  he  bore  on  his  shoulder 
did  not  tend  to  lessen  the  effect  of  his  giant  stature. 

At  sight  of  the  Dane  chief  a  ferocious  smile  distorted 
the  wry  face  of  the  giant,  and  he  bent  to  him  mockingly. 

"  Heya,  old  shipmate !  "  he  croaked.  "  Many  winters 
have  sped  since  we  parted  on  the  Rhine  bank." 

Hroar  licked  his  dry  lips  and  answered  thickly: 
"  Those  were  good  old  days  when  we  followed  Thorbiorn 
and  Otkar  over  sea  and  land.  I  call  to  mind  the  loot  of 
Kars,  when  Thorbiorn  bore  off  the  emir's  daughter  for 
bride.  You  were  not  so  mean  in  those  days  as  to  sail  under 
a  boy  whose  outland  swartness  —  " 

"  —  Proves  the  blood  of  the  emir's  daughter." 

"How!  — this  elf  the  son  of  Thorbiorn  Viking?" 

40 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Ay,"  murmured  Olvir ;  "  the  son  of  the  lord  you 
betrayed.  Ho,  Danes!  now  shall  the  murderer  pay  his 
blood-debt.  Many  times  I  have  harried  your  dune  coasts 
in  search  of  this  foul  traitor,  who,  one  and  twenty  winters 
gone,  sold  his  sword-fellows  and  his  earl  into  the  ambush 
of  the  boy  Karl." 

"  That  is  a  lie !  "  shouted  Hroar.  "  Only  to  save  my 
own  life  —  " 

"Be  still!"  commanded  Olvir.  "The  Crane  shall 
bear  witness  for  me.  State  the  charge,  Floki." 

The  lofty  Northman  stepped  upon  a  cask,  and  his  grey 
eyes  swept  their  gaze  over  the  Danish  ships  and  back  to' 
the  Danish  sea-king,  cold  and  hard  as  steel. 

"  Hearken,  Danes,"  he  began  in  a  dry  croak ;  "  Floki 
the  Crane  is  not  given  to  lying.  He  can  strike  his  bill 
straight  to  the  mark,  and  his  tongue  thrusts  as  straight. 
Doubtless  this  murderer  has  told  you  how  in  days  gone 
by  Thorbiorn  Viking  fell  in  the  Prankish  ambush  on  Rhine 
Stream.  I,  too,  was  there.  Like  the  earl,  I  was  struck 
down  by  the  Prankish  spears.  I  saw  the  boy  Karl  rush 
out  upon  our  fallen  leader;  then  a  war-hammer  stretched 
me  witless.  When  I  saw  again,  before  me  stood  the  traitor 
Hroar.  In  his  hand  was  the  sword  of  his  lord,  and  he 
was  making  blood-play  of  his  own  shipmate,  Hauk  Otter- 
son,  whom  men  called  Longarm.  When  Hauk  was  dead, 
his  slayer  came  to  me.  He  was  minded  first  to  cut  off  my 
feet,  because,  as  he  said,  I  was  too  tall.  But  then  came  the 
son  of  Pepin,  and,  casting  at  the  traitor  the  gold  for  which  he 
had  sold  his  fellows,  bade  him  begone  from  Frank  Land. 
When,  after  many  years,  I  broke  from  the  Prankish  thrall- 
bonds,  I  searched  long  and  fruitlessly  for  the  murderer. 
He  had  hid  his  shame  in  the  Saxon  forests." 

"  He  lies  —  the  croaking  stork  lies !  There  is  no 
proof ! "  cried  Hroar,  loudly ;  but  his  eyes  fell  before  the 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

look  of  his  grim  accuser,  and  glanced  uneasily  over  the 
bloody  deck,  until  a  dry  chuckle  from  Floki  stung  him 
out  of  his  caution. 

"  At  the  least,  you  will  grant  that  the  charge  is  some- 
what stale/*  he  sneered. 

"The  fouler  the  deed's  stench,"  retorted  Floki, 
thrusting  forward  his  sharp  face  with  a  look  of  deadly 
menace.  "  We  have  run  you  down  at  last,  coward,  and 
you  shall  pay  your  share  of  the  blood-debt.  Hearken, 
Danes!  The  viking's  son  is  not  hunting  this  boar  alone; 
he  hunts  bigger  game!  When  I,  hopeless  of  finding  the 
traitor  singly,  after  many  winters  fared  home  to  Trond- 
heim  to  gain  aid,  I  found  this  unknown  son  of  Thorbiorn 
dwelling  outlaw  in  Starkad's  grave-mound  with  Otkar,  his 
foster-father.  Since  then  each  season  we  have  scoured 
your  dune  coasts  for  the  traitor.  But  the  great  wielder  of 
Starkad's  axe  set  foot  on  the  trail  of  mightier  game. 
Who  of  the  North  has  not  heard  how,  in  the  hall  of 
King  Carloman  the  Frank,  and  in  the  realm  of  Desiderius 
the  Lombard,  Otkar  Jotuntop,  wisest  and  strongest  of 
warriors,  fought  and  plotted  against  King  Karl  with  all 
the  craft  of  his  wit  and  lore  and  the  terror  of  his  axe? 
Yet  the  grey  bear  failed  to  wreak  vengeance  against  Thor- 
biorn's  slayer,  and  his  ashes  lie  in  Starkad's  mound.  But 
here  above  me  stands  his  bright  fosterling,  and  when  Olvir 
Thorbiornson  has  slain  Hroar  the  traitor,  he  shall  sail  on 
to  bring  to  an  end  the  task  of  Otkar." 

"Otkar  — Otkar!"  echoed  a  feeble  voice.  "Who 
speaks  of  the  Dane  hero?  " 

As  the  viking  leaders  wheeled  about  in  surprise, 
Roland,  aided  by  Rothada,  sat  up  and  stared  at  them  with 
dazed  eyes. 

"  The  Frank  earl !  "  muttered  Olvir.  "  You  *ve  heard 
of  him,  Floki, — Count  Roland,  the  Frank  king's  kinsman." 

42 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"Ay,  ring-breaker;  I  remember  how,  when  he  re- 
turned, Otkar  spoke  much  of  this  brave  Frank." 

"  Even  when  he  lay  dying  — " 

"  Saint  Michael !  he  is  not  dead,  — -  Otkar  the  Dane, 
who,  all  but  single-handed,  cut  his  way  from  Pavia 
through  the  thick  of  our  host !  I  stood  in  his  battle-path, 
thinking,  in  my  boyish  folly,  to  check  the  rush  of  the  grey 
bear.  But  he  was  high-minded;  he  struck  with  the  flat. 
Would  that  he  had  not  fled  to  the  Greeks!  When  the 
king  saw  his  battle-path,  he  swore  to  make  him  Count  of 
the  Saxon  Mark." 

"  How!    Otkar  his  foe?  "  exclaimed  Olvir. 

The  Frank  stared  up  at  him  and  nodded  faintly  as  he 
sank  back  upon  the  heap  of  bodies.  The  Northman  gazed 
back  at  him  for  a  little  with  a  puzzled  look.  But  an  im- 
patient growl  from  Hroar  recalled  his  attention  to  the 
Dane. 

"Hark,  my  Frank  hero,"  he  said;  "we  will  talk  of 
this  later.  Now  my  sword  sings  the  death  of  Hroar  the 
betrayer.  Run,  maiden;  fetch  drink  for  the  hero,  that 
he  may  have  strength  to  watch  the  sword-game." 

"  So  the  laggard  at  last  draws  sword,"  sneered  Hroar. 
"  He  has  had  his  pleasure ;  now  I  claim  mine.  Ironbiter 
thirsts;  yet  before  he  tastes  the  warm  blood  the  pledge 
of  the  fight  shall  be  made  known.  Speak  out,  bairn!  If 
I  win  I  go  hence  with  trade-ship  and  all,  unhindered, — 
let  the  charge  against  me  be  what  it  may." 

"  Such  are  the  terms,  —  all  men  bear  witness ! " 

A  grin  of  cunning  triumph  broadened  the  Dane's 
ferocious  face. 

"  Then  now  is  Hroar  ready,"  he  called  loudly.  "  Now 
will  Ironbiter  split  the  skull  of  this  base-born  changeling 
as  it  split  the  skull  of  the  man  he  calls  father." 

A  terrible  oath  burst  from  the  lips  of  Floki ;  but  Olvir 

43 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

silenced  him  with  a  look.     Then,  white  to  the  lips,  the 
young  sea-king  turned  again  to  his  enemy. 

"  Dare  you  repeat  that  lie?  "  he  asked  in  the  soft  lisp 
that  betrayed  to  his  steersmen  how  deadly  was  his  anger. 

"  So  the  bairn  begins  to  quake,"  jeered  the  Dane, 
deceived  by  the  Northman's  seeming  mildness.  "  Even  so 
quaked  that  braggart  Thorbiorn  when  I  swung  Ironbiter 
his  own  sword  above  his  head." 

"  That  is  a  double  lie,"  rejoined  Olvir,  in  the  same 
quiet  voice.  "  If  you  met  Thorbiorn,  son  of  Starkad,  in 
battle,  it  was  not  he  who  quaked.  Nor  did  you  slay  the 
hero.  When  he  lay  dying,  pierced  by  the  darts  of  hidden 
foes,  the  boy  Karl  ran  from  behind  and  thrust  him  in  the 
back.  Floki  is  no  liar." 

"  No,  by  Odin,"  boasted  Hroar.  "  Floki  did  not  see 
all.  Pepin's  son  sought  to  stay  me  when  I  ran  to  end  the 
snared  wolf.  Would  that  I  had  broken  the  back  of  the 
meddlesome  bairn !  Floki  has  told  how  he  drove  me  from 
his  camp  before  I  was  half  done  my  play  with  the  thralls." 

"  Enough,  murderer !  "  cried  Qlvir.  "  Now  are  you 
doomed ;  look  on  your  bane !  " 

With  the  words,  the  young  sea-king's  hand  gripped 
the  hilt  of  his  curved  sword.  The  blade  flashed  from  its 
sheath  like  a  tongue  of  blue  flame.  Proudly  its  wielder 
held  the  weapon  up  before  him  and  gazed  at  the  play  of 
iridescent  light  on  its  mirror  surface. 

"Al-hatif,  the  Priceless!  the  Beautiful!"  he  half 
whispered.  Then  suddenly  his  black  eyes  flamed  with  a 
terrible  joy.  He  flung  off  his  cloak  and  leaped  down  be- 
fore Hroar,  whirling  the  blade  about  his  head. 

"  Come,  Dane !  come,  coward !  "  he  shouted.  "  Long 
have  I  sought  you.  Come  to  the  serpent's  kiss!  come 
to  your  bane!  Hel's  blue  hand  outstretches;  Fenir  shall 
rend  you ! " 

44 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

At  the  biting  taunts  the  Dane's  massive  figure  quiv- 
ered with  passion,  and  all  the  malevolence  of  his  nature 
showed  in  his  brutal  face.  Up  swung  his  ponderous 
sword,  and  he  advanced  upon  his  foe  like  an  aurochs  bull. 

"  Leap,  bairn !  "  he  yelled.  "  Ironbiter  swings ;  he 
will  split  your  swart  face ! " 

But  the  Northman  did  not  leap. 

"  Strike  and  see,"  he  called  tauntingly. 

Even  more  scornful  than  his  words  was  the  North- 
man's bearing  as  he  lowered  his  sword  and  stood  with 
the  little  shield  raised  overhead.  To  thus  set  himself  in 
the  way  of  his  huge  opponent  seemed  little  short  of  mad- 
ness alike  to  the  Danish  vikings  and  to  Roland.  The 
Frank  could  not  restrain  a  groan  of  despair,  while  Rothada, 
darting  back  to  his  side  with  a  flask  of  wine,  cried  out  in 
terror.  Already  the  great  sword  whirled  overhead  to  cut 
down  their  champion. 

A  glance  at  the  Norse  steersmen  might  have  reassured 
the  captives.  The  blond  young  giant  and  his  lofty  com- 
panion were  waiting  the  outcome  of  Hroar's  attack  no  less 
calmly  than  their  slender  leader.  Cool  and  quiet,  Olvir 
faced  the  savage  Dane,  his  lip  curled  in  a  haughty  smile; 
but  his  eyes  glittered  like  an  angry  snake's.  Stung  by  the 
scorn  of  the  smile,  Hroar  put  all  his  strength  into  the 
sweep  of  his  sword. 

"  Thor  aid !  "  he  roared,  and  the  sword  whirled  down 
with  terrific  force.  But  the  Northman  only  smiled  the 
more  scornfully  and  caught  the  blow  on  his  tilted  shield 
with  such  consummate  skill  that  the  blade  glanced  harm- 
lessly aside  from  the  steel  surface. 

A  deafening  uproar  greeted  the  feat,  the  Danes  on  the 
one  side  crying  out  their  wonder,  while  the  Northmen 
across  answered  with  shouts  of  triumph.  The  noise 
ceased  as  abruptly  as  it  burst  out.  Olvir  had  raised  his 

45 


i 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

curved  sword  and  tapped  the  hauberk  of  the  Dane  in 
warning.  Had  he  wished  it,  he  could  have  slain  his 
enemy  then;  for  Hroar  was  so  astonished  by  the  turning 
of  the  blow  that  he  stood  with  lowered  shield. 

"  Ward  yourself,  Dane !  "  cried  the  Northman ;  and  as 
Hroar  started  back,  the  Damascus  sword  began  to  dart 
forward  like  the  beak  of  a  striking  heron.  Up  whirled 
Ironbiter  for  a  second  stroke;  but  Olvir  did  not  wait  its 
fall.  With  a  wild  cry  he  hurled  himself  upon  the  Dane 
like  a  maddened  wolf.  Above,  below,  on  all  sides,  his 
sword  flashed  around  Hroar's  shield  in  thrusts  so  swift 
that 'no  eye  could  follow.  In  vain  Hroar  sought  to  cut 
down  with  sweeping  strokes  the  bright  figure  that  leaped 
in  upon  him  till  the  two  shields  clashed;  in  vain  he 
sought  to  avoid  the  lightning  sword-thrusts  that  dazzled 
his  eyes. 

Bleeding  from  a  dozen  stabs,  his  shield-arm  pierced 
and  cheek  laid  open,  the  ferocious  Dane  drew  back  ap- 
palled. His  glaring  eyes  no  longer  saw  a  human  foe 
before  him ;  that  shimmering,  leaping  figure  was  Thor,  the 
Danish  Thor,  terrible  in  his  youth  and  beauty. 

Step  by  step  the  Dane  retreated,  until  his  back  struck 
the  bulwark.  The  touch  spurred  him  to  desperate  fury. 
But  he  sprang  forward,  only  to  reel  back  again  before  the 
stabs  of  the  pitiless  sword.  The  end  was  now  come.  Half 
dazed,  he  dropped  his  shield  to  meet  a  leg  feint,  and  the 
blade  lunged  through  his  unguarded  neck,  so  that  the 
point  stood  out  a  span  behind. 


CHAPTER  IV 

There  the  King,  the  wise-hearted, 
.  .  .  the  mighty  king. 

LAMENT  OP  ODDRUN. 

N  the  picturesque  Garonne  bank, 
beneath  the  Roman  walls  of 
Casseneuil,  lay  the  camp  of  the 
Prankish  host.  Since  Easter  the 
levies  of  blue-eyed  Allemanni 
and  dark-eyed  Aquitanians  and 
Bretons  had  been  pouring  in  to 
swell  the  ranks. 

For  a  mile  around,  the  fertile 
hills  were  dotted  with  tents  and 
booths.  Overhead  stretched  a  canopy  of  blue  haze,  the 
smoke  of  the  countless  fires.  Long  lines  of  ox-wains  trailed 
in  from  all  parts  of  the  land ;  great  droves  of  cattle  browsed 
in  the  meadows ;  and  water  craft  of  all  sizes  sailed  to  and 
fro  on  the  Lot  and  the  Garonne,  or  lay  moored  along  the 
banks  while  busy  sailors  shifted  cargo.  The  larger  vessels 
were  from  Bordeaux  and  the  sea;  others  plied  between 
Casseneuil  and  Toulouse,  where  a  smaller  host  —  Burgun- 
dians  and  Lombards,  and  the  Goths  and  Gallo-Romans 
of  Septimania  and  Provincia  —  were  being  mustered  by 
Barnard,  the  king's  uncle,  to  invade  the  Saracen  country 
by  way  of  Narbonne.  The  grandson  of  Karl  the  Ham- 
mer was  gathering  his  might  to  strike  the  pagans  such 
another  blow  as  had  shattered  their  host  on  the  plains  of 
Touraine. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  royal  pavilion  stood  in  the  heart  of  the  camp, 
close  to  the  river's  bank.  Above  its  peak  floated  the  gold- 
bright  folds  of  the  three-forked  standard,  and  the  scores 
of  messengers  that  came  and  went  told  that  Karl  the  King 
was  busied  with  the  affairs  of  his  vast  realm.  Those  who 
passed  in  saw  first  a  striking  assemblage  of  the  king's 
liegemen,  —  long-robed  priests,  counts  in  full  war-gear, 
and  court  officials,  ornate  with  silks  and  jewels.  Here 
were  warriors  who  had  seen  the  fall  of  Pavia  and  helped 
to  hew  down  the  Irminsul ;  bishops  and  abbots  who  ruled 
ecclesiastical  estates,  the  revenues  of  which  were  little  less 
than  princely;  missi dominici, —  those  trusty  liegemen  who 
bore  the  king's  will  to  outland  lords,  or  journeyed  through 
their  appointed  ridings  to  bring  justice  for  all  against  the 
petty  tyrannies  of  count  and  bishop  and  judge. 

Yet  though  the  pavilion  held  within  it  many  of  the 
most  famous  men  of  the  greatest  realm  since  the  fall  of  the 
Western  Empire,  the  new-comer  would  have  been  certain 
to  pass  by  all  alike  with  a  hasty  glance  and  turn  half  rev- 
erently to  the  low  dais  where  Karl  the  King  sat  on  his 
oaken  throne.  Aside  from  his  jewelled  sword-belt,  there 
was  little  of  gold  or  gems  about  the  massive  figure ;  but  be- 
neath the  sapphires  and  holy  nail  of  the  Lombard  crown  the 
grey  eyes  of  the  great  Frank  gazed  out  with  calm  power. 
War-counts  and  priests  alike  bowed  before  that  glance; 
for  in  mind,  as  in  body,  Karl  was  master  of  them  all. 

The  last  of  the  missi  called  into  service  had  been 
despatched  to  inspect  the  four  quarters  of  the  realm,  and 
the  king  was  now  in  earnest  consultation  with  two 
Moslem  envoys.  The  contrast  between  the  lean  figure 
and  patriarchal  beard  of  the  older  Saracen  and  the  blond, 
massive-limbed  Frank  was  as  great  as  that  between  the 
king's  jerkin  and  cross-thonged  stockings  and  the  envoy's 
green  turban  and  flowing  white  burnous.  Yet  such  of  the 


EKXKKKE 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

bystanders  as  were  accustomed  to  look  beneath  mere  out- 
ward appearance  saw  in  the  Arab  sheik's  dark  face  an 
expression  strikingly  like  that  which  gave  such  dignity 
to  the  fresh  ruddy  countenance  of  the  king.  Not  all  the 
wide  difference  in  race  and  dress  and  years  could  hide  the 
stamp  of  power  with  which  Nature  had  marked  the  fea- 
tures of  the  two. 

The  other  Saracen,  who,  like  the  king,  appeared  to  be 
scarcely  three  or  four  years  past  thirty,  showed  warrior 
training  in  every  pose  and  feature;  but  a  covert  sneer 
lurked  beneath  his  impassive  smile,  and  from  eyes  that 
blinked  like  those  of  a  bird  of  prey  he  shot  quick,  evil 
glances  at  the  surrounding  Franks. 

Presently  there  entered  the  pavilion  a  thick-set,  tow- 
haired  warrior,  with  red,  beer-bloated  features,  who  jostled 
his  way  to  the  front  without  wasting  breath  in  apologies 
for  his  rudeness.  As  he  approached  the  dais  the  younger 
Saracen  glanced  at  him,  and,  with  a  seemingly  careless 
gesture,  touched  the  hilt  of  his  scimetar.  He  turned  away 
at  once  to  join  in  the  parting  salaams  to  the  king,  while  the 
boorish  warrior  returned  to  the  pavilion's  entrance.  As  he 
came  to  a  halt  near  the  Grand  Doorward,  he  pointed  out- 
side, his  low  forehead  creased  in  a  savage  scowl. 

"  Here  comes  the  duke  now,  and  in  choice  company," 
he  grumbled.  "  The  Merwing  shall  learn  that  Rudulf  s 
daughter  is  not  for  a  Vascon,  though  he  be  twice  over 
the  rightful  heir  of  Clovis." 

"  Does  Count  Hardrat  speak  of  the  Vascon  Wolf?  " 
inquired  the  doorward,  half  heeding. 

"  Vascon  fox !  "  rejoined  Hardrat.  The  jest  seemed 
to  ease  his  ill-humor,  and  he  turned  his  gaze  to  the  duke's 
beautiful  companion. 

The  girl  was  young,  —  certainly  not  more  than  seven- 
teen,—  but  of  all  the  queen's  maidens,  none  could  lay 

4  49 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

claim  to  so  many  suitors.  Among  her  own  people  and 
the  other  blond  Germans  beyond  the  Rhine  she  would 
have  been  considered  too  dark  for  perfect  beauty;  but, 
North  Rhine  or  South  Rhine,  few  men  could  have  looked 
at  her  without  a  quickened  pulse-beat.  There  was  allure- 
ment in  every  line  of  her  softly  moulded  features,  in  the 
rich  bloom  of  her  olive  cheeks,  and  in  the  silky  meshes  of 
her  gold-brown  hair.  Envious  rivals  might  say  that  her 
eyes  were  over-narrow  for  beauty,  and  her  lips  of  too 
vivid  a  scarlet.  None  the  less,  the  ardent  warriors  and 
courtiers,  and  more  than  one  mitred  churchman,  longed 
for  the  kiss  of  that  enticing  mouth,  and  willingly  gave 
themselves  over  to  the  spell  of  the  bewitching  eyes  with 
their  strangely  shifting  tints  of  blue  and  green. 

Such  was  Fastrada,  the  daughter  of  Count  Rudulf, 
youngest,  fairest,  and  most  sought  for  among  the  queen's 
bower-maidens. 

It  was  not  to  be  wondered,  therefore,  that  as  he 
strolled  with  her  up  to  the  pavilion  Duke  Lupus  kept  his 
small  eyes  fixed  upon  the  girl  in  an  amorous  stare.  Near 
the  entrance  he  paused  and  sighed  regretfully. 

"  Here  is  the  king's  tent,  maiden,"  he  said.  "  I  wish 
it  had  been  more  distant.  At  your  side  the  way  was  all 
too  short.  I  am  more  than  repaid  that  I  left  my  horse  at 
the  villa  gate  for  my  suite  to  bring  after." 

The  girl  looked  up,  open-eyed,  into  the  Vascon's  sen- 
sual face,  and  replied  with  a  simplicity  that  to  a  casual 
observer  would  have  appeared  almost  naive :  "  The  noble 
Lupus  has  done  me  great  honor  by  his  escort.  Our 
gracious  queen  will  not  soon  forget  such  a  favor." 

"  And  the  queen's  most  charming  maiden  — ?  " 

Fastrada  bent  her  head  to  hide  a  smile,  but  her  voice 
was  very  soft :  "  Who  could  forget  a  kindness  from  the 
Duke  of  the  Vascons,  —  from  the  rightful  heir  of  Clovis?" 

5Q 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Lupus  started,  and  glanced  hastily  before  him  into 
the  pavilion.  He  had  often  boasted  of  his  descent  from 
that  long  line  of  lustful,  bloody,  indolent  Merwing  kings, 
the  last  of  whom  had  been  deposed  and  his  crown  seized 
by  Pepin  the  Short;  but  all  of  those  boasts  had  been 
uttered  when  the  usurper's  son  held  court  on  the  farther 
side  of  Aquitania.  His  relief  was  heartfelt  when  he  per- 
ceived that  only  one  other  than  himself  had  heard  the 
dangerous  compliment.  Hardrat  met  his  furtive  glance 
with  a  meaning  smile  and  came  forward  to  bow  before 
Fastrada. 

"  Saints  grant  I  may  be  of  service  to  our  dame's  fairest 
maiden,"  he  said. 

The  girl  lowered  her  eyes  demurely. 

"  I  bear  a  message  to  our  lord  king,"  she  replied. 

"Then  the  Christian  maiden  must  wait  for  heathen 
dogs." 

Fastrada  looked  up  at  her  two  suitors  with  an  arch 
smile,  but  only  Lupus  perceived  the  trace  of  malice  that 
lurked  in  the  corners  of  the  scarlet  lips. 

"  Do  not  be  angry  for  me,  Count  Hardrat,"  she  said. 
"  It  is  a  pleasure  to  wait  in  company  such  as  that  with 
which  I  am  favored." 

Both  lords  smiled  at  the  flattery ;  but  while  the  duke 
repaid  the  compliment  in  graceful  phrases,  Hardrat  glared 
at  his  rival  with  jealous  suspicion.  From  beneath  her 
modestly  drooping  lashes  Fastrada  watched  how  the 
Thuringian's  brow  lowered  under  the  arrogant  stare  of 
the  duke.  Her  pulse  quickened,  and  the  shifting  tints 
deepened  in  her  downcast  eyes.  But  the  war-count 
checked  his  threatened  outburst,  and  so  put  an  end  to 
the  sport. 

Petulantly  the  girl  turned  to  the  entrance,  only  to 
look  about  in  appeal  to  the  Vascon. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

tfAf9  lord  duke,"  she  exclaimed;  "who  are  these 
heathen?  I  can  see  only  their  strange  headgear." 

"  They  are  Saracen  counts,  the  pagan  allies  of  our 
Most  Christian  King,"  answered  Hardrat,  and  he  smiled 
ironically.  "  But  look,  —  their  audience  comes  to  an  end. 
I  can  now  lead  you  in  before  his  Majesty." 

"I  give  thanks,"  murmured  Fastrada,  but  her 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  envoys.  The  officials  near 
the  entrance  had  drawn  apart,  and  the  white-robed 
Saracens,  having  salaamed  themselves  to  a  respectful 
distance  from  the  dais  of  the  mighty  Afranj  sultan, 
were  completing  their  exit  in  a  more  dignified  man- 
ner. The  tall  leader  came  out  like  a  veritable  Sheik 
el  Islam,  his  firm  tread,  erect  frame,  and  eagle  glance 
giving  the  lie  to  the  whiteness  of  his  hair  and  flowing 
beard. 

Fastrada  slipped  in  front  for  a  closer  view  of  the 
grand  old  warrior,  but  was  met  by  the  leering  gaze  of 
the  younger  envoy  behind  him.  Before  his  stare  the  girl 
shrank  back,  blushing  with  offended  pride.  Yet  she 
looked  eagerly  around  after  the  Saracen  leader,  and  her 
changeful  eyes  sparkled  as  she  exclaimed:  "There  goes 
a  hero !  Would  that  he  were  young !  We  'd  see  a  war- 
rior such  as  few  Franks  could  withstand." 

"  Strange  words  for  a  daughter  of  Thuringia,"  replied 
Lupus;  "yet,  none  the  less,  they  are  very  fitting.  Al 
Arabi  is  a  count  of  great  fame  among  his  people.  He 
has  held  many  high  offices,  and  though  no  longer  Count 
of  Saragossa,  he  is  friend  and  chief  councillor  of  Al 
Huseyn,  the  vali  who  succeeded  him.  Old  as  he  is,  even 
now  he  can  strike  a  heavy  blow." 

"  He  is  a  raven-feeder ! "  growled  Count  Hardrat. 
"  Nor  is  Vali  Kasim  a  babe.  The  old  man  has  a  stout 
son-in-law.  Also,  he  owns  a  silent  tongue  and  does  not 

52 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

bicker  with  his  friends.  Come  now,  maiden,  if  you  would 
see  the  king." 

The  girl  smiled,  and  bowed  both  to  Lupus  and  to  her 
red-faced  countryman.  Then,  with  hands  clasped  before 
her  and  eyes  demurely  downcast,  she  followed  the  latter 
through  the  brilliant  assemblage  to  the  royal  presence. 
Karl,  though  dictating  a  memorandum  to  Abbot  Fulrad, 
the  white-haired  Keeper  of  the  Great  Seal,  paused  at  once 
and  nodded  pleasantly  to  Hardrat. 

"  You  bring  a  maiden  from  Hildegarde,"  he  observed 
in  a  voice  clear  and  strong  but  strangely  shrill  for  so 
massive  a  body.  "  I  am  mistaken  if  it  is  not  the  daughter 
of  our  faithful  Rudulf.  I  trust  that  she  bears  good 
tidings." 

Fastrada  bowed  low  before  the  dais.  "  Our  gracious 
dame  bade  me  bring  word  to  your  Majesty  that  her  pain 
has  eased.  She  enjoys  good  health  again,  though  she  put 
away  the  leech's  drugs." 

"  As  well  —  as  well !  I  'd  wager  a  little  fasting 
against  the  best  of  leeches.  But,  indeed,  these  are  good 
tidings,  and  they  come  by  the  mouth  of  a  fair  emissary," 
replied  Karl,  his  gaze  lingering  on  the  soft  beauty  of  the 
girl's  face  and  form.  "  It  is  a  dusty  path  to  the  gates, 
and  the  herald  of  our  queen  should  be  spared  the  pains 
of  walking  it  twice  in  a  day.  Let  her  delay  her  return. 
There  will  be  a  seat  in  our  barge  when  we  go  to  the 
noon-meal." 

Fastrada  bowed  and  withdrew,  half  awed,  into  the 
midst  of  the  assemblage.  Yet  the  admiration  in  the  king's 
glance  had  by  no  means  escaped  her.  Her  cheeks  glowed 
with  pride  at  thought  of  the  look  and  of  his  kindly  tone. 
After  royalty,  the  homage  of  lesser  men  lacked  flavor,  and 
the  girl  listened  to  the  eager  greetings  of  the  court  offi- 
cials with  an  indifferent  bearing.  Of  what  value  the 

53 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

blandishments  of  these  sleek  courtiers  and  petty  counts 
when  heroes  such  as  the  famous  Roland  and  Hardrat 
were  no  less  eager  for  her  favor?  And  now  the  king 
himself  had  looked  at  her  with  far  other  than  a  cold  eye, 
though  Queen  Hildegarde  was  yet  held  to  be  the  most 
beautiful  woman  in  the  realm. 

With  true  feminine  perversity,  the  girl  turned  from 
all  others  and  set  about  the  task  of  pleasing  a  lank,  dour- 
faced  official,  the  only  one  in  the  pavilion  who  seemed 
altogether  indifferent  to  her  charms.  The  man  met  her 
advances  with  a  sardonic  smile,  and  gave  a  curt  response 
to  her  greeting;  while  his  pale-blue  eyes  turned  away 
from  her  soft  beauty  to  fix  their  cold  stare  on  the 
approaching  figure  of  Duke  Lupus. 

"  The  Merwing  is  ill  named,"  he  muttered  in  his  beard, 
struck  by  the  same  thought  that  had  prompted  Hardrat's 
jest.  "  He  should  be  called  Fox,  not  Wolf,  —  a  cunning 
fox !  He  will  bear  watching." 

"What  is  my  Lord  Anselm  pleased  to  say?"  asked 
Fastrada.  "  He  has  the  look  which  he  wears  when  he  sits 
on  the  judgment-seat,  dooming  the  luckless  offenders." 

"  Maidens  should  chatter  and  spin,  and  leave  weightier 
matters  to  those  who  have  wit,"  answered  the  judge,  dryly. 

"  Alas,  then,  for  the  maidens,  if  all  men  agree  with 
the  Count  of  the  Palace !  "  sighed  Fastrada ;  and  she  drew 
back  in  mock  sorrow. 

Anselm  paid  no  heed  to  the  alluring  play.  His  atten- 
tion was  fixed  upon  the  Duke  of  the  Vascons. 

Lupus  advanced  with  an  arrogance  that  won  him  little 
favor  among  the  proud  Franks.  But  Karl  smiled,  and 
even  extended  his  hand  for  the  salute  when  the  duke 
would  have  bent  to  kiss  his  knee. 

"  With  joy  we  see  again  our  faithful  friend,"  he  said. 
"  Not  satisfied  with  swearing  allegiance  the  second  time, 

54 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

he  brings  us  needed  supplies  with  a  bountiful  hand.  It  is 
well  this  fair  Southland  is  held  for  us  by  so  trusty  a 
liegeman." 

"  My  lord  king  is  pleased  to  be  gracious,"  replied 
Lupus,  quickly.  "  If  I  have  won  his  indulgence,  I  now  beg 
leave  to  ask  a  favor." 

"  Speak.  Anything  I  can  rightfully  give  shall  be 
allowed  you." 

"  It  is  no  small  matter,  your  Majesty ;  the  insolent 
Bishop  of  Rome  has  stricken  the  mitre  from  the  head  of 
my  kinsman  Thierry." 

Karl  started  and  frowned. 

"  Alter  your  asking,  lord  duke,"  he  answered.  "  I 
cannot  set  aside  so  just  a  judgment.  There  were  charges 
and  a  fair  trial  for  the  Bishop  of  Bordeaux.  He  has  failed 
to  clear  himself  on  a  single  count;  drunkenness,  strife, 
licentiousness,  —  all  were  proved." 

"  Slander,  sire !  —  malicious  slander !  "  cried  the  duke, 
his  passion  overleaping  all  caution.  "  My  kinsman  is 
persecuted  for  his  lineage!  Few  priests  of  his  rank  but 
wassail  and  brawl  unrebuked.  As  for  the  third  charge, 
strangest  of  all  in  a  realm  whose  king  —  " 

"  Silence ! "  roared  Karl ;  and  he  towered  up  on  the 
dais  like  an  angry  lion.  "  Has  the  kinsman  of  Hunold 
and  Waifre  twice  sworn  allegiance  to  doubt  the  justice 
of  his  king  and  Holy  Church?  I,  the  king,  sent  Pope 
Hadrian  command  for  the  trial.  It  is  enough  that  dukes 
and  counts  trample  the  common  folk  and  wallow  in  the 
troughs  of  their  sodden  vices.  At  the  least,  I  will  scourge 
the  swine  from  God's  Church.  By  the  King  of  Heaven! 
when  I  have  swept  the  pagan  Saracens  into  the  sea  I  will 
cleanse  the  household  of  my  kingdom,  —  from  duke  to 
deacon!  Thierry  has  lost  his  mitre;  let  him  repent  and 
walk  upright,  lest  worse  come  upon  him." 

55 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Stunned,  humiliated,  livid  with  impotent  anger,  the 
haughty  Merwing  shrank  back  from  before  the  son  of 
Pepin,  and  hastened  to  quit  the  assemblage  that  had  wit- 
nessed his  shame.  Most  of  the  Franks  met  his  black 
glances  with  ready  frowns;  but  Hardrat,  the  Thuringian 
count,  could  not  conceal  his  pleasure  at  the  turn  of  events. 

"  All  goes  well!  "  he  chuckled.  "  The  fox  is  shrewdly 
nipped.  He  '11  stop  at  nothing  now.  Rage  will  melt  all 
his  frosty  caution.  The  others  are  with  us,  heart  and 
hand,  and  that  missive  to  Saxon  Land  by  this  time  should 
have  rid  us  —  " 

The  conclusion  of  the  Thuringian's  half-muttered 
words  was  lost  in  a  terrific  blare  of  trumpets  and  war- 
horns  that  sent  the  alarm  ringing  to  every  corner  of  the 
Prankish  camp. 

Within  the  pavilion  all  was  instantly  struggle  and 
confusion.  Swords  flashed  overhead,  and  the  assemblage 
surged  from  side  to  side  as  the  war-counts  sought  to  push 
out  from  the  press  of  officials  and  priests.  But  Karl  the 
King  walked  swiftly  through  the  parting  crowd,  his  face 
serene,  his  sword  unsheathed.  The  warriors  rushed  after 
him,  weapon  in  hand. 


CHAPTER  V 

What  are  ye,  then,  of  armed  men, 
Mailed  folk  who  the  foaming  keel 
Have  urged  thus  over  the  ocean  ways, 
Over  water-ridges  the  ringed  prow  ? 

BEOWULF. 

OST  women  at  such  a  time 
would  have  cowered  behind  the 
empty  throne;  Fastrada  sought 
to  pass  out  with  the  war-counts. 
She  was  caught,  however,  in  the 
press  which  closed  behind  them, 
and  even  with  Abbot  Fulrad's 
aid  could  not  gain  the  entrance 
for  some  time.  When  at  last  the 
sturdy  old  Keeper  of  the  Seal 

drew  her  into  the  open,  the  horns  had  ceased  braying,  and 

a  strange  hush  lay  upon  the  camp.    But  the  river-banks 

were  lined  with  armed  men,  and  Fastrada  saw  hundreds  of 

other  warriors  running  to  join  them. 

"  What  can  it  mean?  "  she  exclaimed.     "  Have  the 

Aquitanians  revolted?    Look  how  every  man  stares  down 

the  river." 

"  Let  us  go  yonder  to  the  knoll  where  the  king  stands. 

There  the  view  is  clear,"  suggested  Fulrad. 

"I    see   masts   already,  —  five   of   them,"   exclaimed 

Fastrada,  as  they  hurried  forward.    "  Each  bears  a  white 

shield  at  its  peak.     It  cannot  be  they  are  Greek  ships. 

They  must  be  Frisian  traders,  or  an  embassy  from  Alf- 

wold,  King  of  Northumbria." 

57 


FOR    THE  _  W  KITE    CHRIST 

"  Neither  one  nor  the  other,  maiden,"  rejoined  Fulrad. 
"  Years  since,  in  the  days  of  Pepin,  I  saw  the  like,  —  once 
upon  the  Seine,  and  again  upon  the  Rhine,  in  the  Frisian 
Mark.  It  was  there  Karl  fought  his  first  battle,  —  a  lad 
of  twelve." 

"But  these  ships  —  of  what  land  are  they?  See  how 
stately  they  surge  up  the  river  with  their  glittering  prows ; 
and  hark  to  the  oar-song  of  their  crews,  —  a  lay  of  the 
old  gods !  I  've  heard  it  in  the  forest  when  no  priest  was 
near." 

"  Ay,  maiden ;  these  are  heathen  craft,  and  they  bear 
warriors  more  terrible  than  the  Saxon  wolves.  You  Ve 
heard  of  Lord  Otkar.  These  are  his  countrymen." 

"Danes?" 

"  Truly ;  from  Sigfrid's  realm,  or  from  Jutland,  which 
is  beyond.  Otkar  was  of  a  land  yet  more  distant.  He 
told  me  much  of  the  Norse  folk ;  of  their  great  wealth  and 
fierce  war-spirit.  God  grant  that  Wittikind  the  West- 
phalian  lies  quiet  in  Nordmannia  and  does  not  march 
back  with  the  host  of  his  wife's  brother.  The  Saxons 
and  Frisians  are  hard  enough  nuts  to  crack,  without  the 
Danes." 

"  But  how  come  these  heathen  on  the  Garonne?  " 

"  We  shall  soon  learn,"  answered  the  abbot,  pointing 
with  his  staff.  "  Here  is  the  first  ship  abreast.  Mark  the 
mail-clad  crew." 

"  The  ship  turns,"  observed  Fastrada. 

"  And  the  others  follow.  They  will  moor  before  the 
king." 

Even  as  Fulrad  spoke,  the  oars  of  the  longships  rattled 
inboard,  and  the  five  beautiful  craft  glided  toward  the 
bank.  They  might  have  been  dragons  wheeling  in  salute 
to  the  royal  standard.  Spellbound  by  the  sight,  warriors 
and  courtiers  and  king  alike  stood  silently  waiting  while 
.58 


FOR    THE    WHIT,E    CHRIST 

the  stately  prows  swept  inshore.  First  the  leader  and 
then,  in  quick  succession,  the  four  others  ran  aground, 
and  the  hush  was  broken  by  the  thud  of  grapnels  cast 
upon  the  bank.  As  the  sterns  of  the  vessels  swung  down- 
stream with  the  current,  a  gangplank  was  thrust  ashore 
from  the  prow  of  the  leader. 

The  first  to  leap  down  the  plank  was  a  gallant  young 
warrior  in  Prankish  armor,  at  sight  of  whom  the  king 
cried  out  in  astonishment :  "  Gerold !  —  with  these 
Danes!" 

"  The  Northmen  come  in  peace,  sire,"  observed  Abbot 
Fulrad.  "  If  not,  how  is  it  the  queen's  brother  bears  them 
company?" 

"  Peaceful  or  not,  lord  abbot,"  rejoined  Hardrat, 
"  these  are  insolent  pagans  to  sing  forbidden  lays  in  the 
midst  of  a  Christian  host.  Shall  I  not  take  horse,  sire, 
and  bring  down  the  galleys  from  Casseneuil?  Look, 
your  Majesty!  Count  Roland  follows  Gerold;  and  he 
totters  from  recent  wounds ! " 

But  Karl  made  no  answer.  He  was  staring  intently 
at  the  lithe  warrior  in  shimmering  mail  who  had  leaped 
up  to  help  Roland  across  the  gangway. 

"Ho,  Fulrad,"  he  called;  "look  close  at  the  Dane 
count's  war-gear,  and  call  to  mind  that  old  Norse  bear 
Otkar.  His  mail  was  the  same  in  every  point  as  this 
bright  falcon's.  Can  they  be  kinsmen?  " 

"  Old  oak  and  young  ash,  —  they  're  little  more  alike, 
sire.  But  the  lad  will  shortly  tell  us,"  remarked  Fulrad, 
as  Gerold  hastened  forward. 

The  queen's  brother  mounted  the  knoll,  and  knelt  to 
kiss  the  extended  hand  of  the  king. 

"  Greeting,  lad !  You  return  in  strange  fellowship," 
remarked  Karl,  his  gaze  fixed  upon  the  bright  Northman, 
who  was  supporting  Roland  up  the  bank. 

59 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  They  are  shipmates  whom  I  know  your  Majesty  will 
gladly  welcome,"  replied  Gerold,  with  fervor.  "  Never 
have  I  seen  such  warriors!  I  fell  in  with  them  at 
Bordeaux." 

"Bordeaux?" 

"  I  journeyed  to  the  Vascon  burg  from  Fronsac,  think- 
ing that  my  lord  would  wish  to  know  more  of  the  new 
walls  which  Duke  Lupus  is  building." 

"  Well  done !    But  these  Danes?  " 

"  I  can  thank  their  count  for  a  quick  journey !  He 
comes  to  you  on  a  strange  mission —  But  let  Roland 
speak,  sire.  He  owes  the  Northman  freedom  and  life." 

"  More,  sire !  —  more !  "  cried  Roland,  as  he  sprang 
forward  from  the  supporting  arm  of  his  companion. 

The  king  met  him  halfway,  and  drew  him  up  as  he 
sought  to  kneel. 

"  You  're  wounded,  kinsman !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You 
have  fought  at  sea !  Where  are  your  followers  —  and  the 
child?  " 

"  I  have  lost  my  henchmen,  sire ;  but  all  else  is  well 
—  thanks  to  Lord  Olvir,  my  noble  sword-brother." 

"This  Dane?" 

"  Ay,  sire ;  leader  of  half  a  thousand  sea- wolves,  — 
the  pick  of  the  North.  He  has  saved  me  from  torture  and 
the  princess  from  shame." 

"  By  my  father's  soul,  he  has  earned  the  good-will 
of  one  who  can  repay!  Stand  forward,  my  bright  Dane, 
that  Karl  the  King  may  give  you  thanks." 

At  such  a  bidding  from  the  lord  of  half  Europe,  most 
men  would  have  run  to  kneel  at  the  king's  feet.  Such, 
however,  was  not  the  manner  of  vikings,  and  Olvir  Thor- 
biornson  was  not  only  a  leader  of  vikings,  but,  throughout 
the  heathen  North,  could  have  laid  claim  without  dispute 
to  a  descent  direct  from  Odin.  Instead  of  hastening  for- 

60 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


I 


ward,  with  glowing  face  and  ready  bows,  he  advanced 
proudly  erect,  as  one  sea-king  would  meet  another. 

Karl  and  his  lords  gazed  at  the  young  heathen  in 
wondering  admiration,  no  less  impressed  by  the  grace  and 
pride  of  his  bearing  than  by  his  rich  dress  and  the  beauty 
of  his  sword  and  war-gear.  Beside  his  lithe  figure  and 
dark,  masterful  face  even  Gerold  of  Bussen  appeared  rough 
and  uncouth. 

Olvir  neither  bowed  nor  knelt,  but  raised  his  shield 
overhead  in  salute,  and  returned  Karl's  gaze  with  the 
unflinching  look  of  an  equal.  It  was  a  novel  meeting  for 
the  warrior-king,  before  whom  even  the  wild  Saxons 
trembled.  He  frowned  and  said  shortly :  "  It  would  seem 
that  the  Danes  are  stiff  of  knee." 

"  Then  set  us  in  your  battle-front,  lord  king,"  replied 
Olvir. 

"Well  answered!"  cried  Abbot  Fulrad. 

"  You  wish  to  join  my  standard,  young  Dane,  and 
seek  the  post  of  danger?  "  said  Karl,  now  smiling. 

"  Where  else  should  a  king's  son  stand  ?  For  this 
war  the  foster-son  of  Otkar  Jotuntop  seeks  place  with  his 
sea-wolves  in  the  fore  of  your  host." 

"Otkar  the  Dane!  —  you  his  fosterling?" 

"  And  blood  kinsman." 

"  Where,  then,  is  the  hero?  " 

"  His  ashes  lie  in  the  mound  where  he  reared  me." 

"Dead?  —  that  giant  warrior!  But  he  sent  you  to 
make  peace  with  the  foe  whom  without  cause  he  sought 
so  mightily  to  harm." 

"  No,  by  Thor,"  rejoined  Olvir,  his  black  eyes  glitter- 
ing. "  To  the  end  Otkar  thought  only  of  vengeance.  He 
gave  over  the  task  into  my  hand.  I  sailed  out  of  the  North 
to  harry  your  coasts  with  fire  and  steel." 

"Saint  Michael!   you  dare  tell  me  that!"  cried  Karl, 

61 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

and  his  grey  eyes  flamed  with  anger  at  the  Northman's 
audacity. 

"  My  tale  is  not  all  told,"  said  Olvir,  unmoved. 

"I  have  heard  enough!  You  have  slain  Count 
Roland's  henchmen,  stolen  my  wares,  and  now  you  come 
to  mock  —  " 

"  No,  sire !  no ! "  cried  Roland,  and  he  sprang  before 
the  Northman,  who  was  turning  haughtily  away,  his  dark 
face  no  less  angry  than  the  king's.  "  Hold,  brother ! 
One  word,  sire!  It  was  not  he  who  slew  my  followers; 
he  saved  us  from  the  clutches  of  Wittikind's  man,  a 
terrible  Dane  count,  whom  he  slew  in  single  combat. 
While  I  lay  witless  from  my  wounds,  he  granted  the 
prayer  of  the  little  princess  that  we  be  brought  to  you ;  he 
won  over  the  warriors  of  the  Dane  count  to  join  his 
banner;  yet  more,  he  plighted  brotherhood  with  me,  after 
the  old  custom." 

"As  to  your  wares,  Frank  king,"  broke  in  Olvir, 
hotly,  "bale  and  cask  lie  in  my  longships,  untouched. 
Now  I  cast  them  ashore,  and  weigh  anchor." 

"  No,  by  my  sword ;  that  you  shall  not ! "  cried 
Karl,  and  in  a  stride  he  was  beside  the  young  North- 
man. "  Hold,  kin  of  Otkar.  I  have  done  wrong ;  I  will 
repay." 

"  Hold,  brother,  for  my  sake ! "  urged  Roland,  his  arm 
about  Olvir's  shoulder. 

The  sea-king  half  turned,  his  nostrils  quivering  with 
passion,  and  stared  fiercely  about  from  the  astonished 
Frank  lords  to  their  king.  But  before  the  look  on  Karl's 
grand  face  his  anger  broke  and  subsided  as  quickly  as 
it  had  flared  out. 

"  Have  your  will,  lord  king,"  he  muttered.  "  I  will 
listen,  though  that  is  not  our  custom  in  the  North  after 
words  such  as  have  been  spoken  here." 

6a 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Then  I  eat  those  words,  my  bold  Dane.  Wait ; 
that  is  not  enough!  My  hot  anger  has  done  you  wrong. 
I  will  pay  in  full.  Yet  first,  tell  me  why  you  sought  ven- 
geance against  me,  —  you  and  Otkar.  Why  did  your 
foster-father  stir  up  strife  between  me  and  my  brother 
Carolman?  Why  did  he  spur  Desiderius,  the  weak  Lom- 
bard, to  war?  " 

Olvir's  breast  heaved,  and  his  nostrils  quivered;  but 
he  answered  steadily :  "  It  was  thus,  lord  king :  in  your 
youth  you  laid  an  ambush  near  the  Rhine  mouth  for  a 
band  of  vikings." 

"  It  was  my  first  battle.  The  Danes  had  a  famous  hero 
for  leader." 

"  He  was  my  father." 

"So  —  now  I  understand,"  muttered  Karl,  and  his 
brows  met  in  deep  thought.  "  You  have  been  generous, 
young  count.  Name  what  blood-fine  you  would  have. 
I  will  pay  it  over  without  dispute." 

"  I  do  not  come  for  wergild,  lord  king.  While  I 
thought  you  my  father's  slayer,  nothing  but  blood  could 
have  paid  for  the  wrong.  And  the  debt  is  paid  in  blood; 
for  before  I  slew  that  vile  Dane,  I  learned  from  his  own 
lips  that  he,  who  had  betrayed  my  father,  also  was  his 
bane,  —  that  you  sought  to  save  the  stricken  hero." 

"  He  thrust  me  aside ;  I  was  yet  a  child.  I  wish  now 
that  I  had  hung  the  blood-eager  boar." 

"  Not  so,  king ;  else  I  might  never  have  learned  that 
I  had  no  cause  to  hate  you.  I  owe  thanks  to  the  braggart. 
But  for  his  boasts,  I  doubt  if  I  should  have  yielded  to  the 
little  maid's  entreaty." 

"  It  was  a  Christian  deed !  "  exclaimed  Karl. 

Olvir  smiled :  "  Say  rather,  a  Christly  deed.  I  have 
read  the  runes  of  the  White  Christ;  but,  also,  I  have 
heard  what  Otkar  had  to  say  of  your  Christian  priests 

63 


FOR    THE   WHITE    CHRIST 

and  their  flocks.  By  Thor!  beneath  the  fleece,  if  Otkar 
spoke  truth,  they  differ  little  from  those  whom  you  call 
heathen  wolves." 

"  True  —  true !  though  the  charge  is  bitter  from  the 
lips  of  a  pagan.  Yet  Holy  Church  is  the  only  fold,  how- 
ever much  defiled  by  evil  men.  Already  I  have  set  about 
the  cleansing  of  the  sacred  cloisters.  Before  I  have  ended 
that  task,  I  hope  that  you  and  all  your  followers  will 
have  come  within  the  pale." 

"  But  now,  lord  king,  all  my  men  are  sons  of  Thor 
and  Odin;  and  I,  like  Otkar,  trust  neither  in  the  old  gods 
nor  the  new,  —  only  in  my  own  might.  Can  you  welcome 
us  so?  I  have  heard  how  you  force  baptism  upon  the 
Saxons." 

"  As  a  nation  of  savage  pagans,  they  menace  my 
kingdom.  I  must  bend  them  to  Holy  Church,  or  in  time 
to  come  they  will  sweep  across  the  Rhine  and  lay  deso- 
late the  work  I  seek  to  upbuild.  It  is  otherwise  with 
your  following,  my  Dane  hawk.  You  are  free  to  choose 
or  reject  Christ,  as  you  are  free  to  come  and  go.  It  is 
my  trust  that  you  will  see  the  Truth  and  stay  with  me 
always." 

"  For  this  war,  at  least,  we  shall  fight  beneath  your 
standard.  Your  foe  will  not  easily  break  the  shieldburg 
of  my  sea-wolves." 

"  That  I  can  well  believe  if  they  are  worthy  of  their 
leader." 

"  You  shall  view  them  now,  lord  king ! "  exclaimed 
Olvir,  and,  wheeling  about,  he  sent  a  clear  command  ring- 
ing down  the  bank. 

Hardly  was  the  word  uttered  when  from  all  five  long- 
ships  the  armed  crews  poured  overboard  and  swarmed  up 
the  shore  like  a  storming  party.  "So  fierce,  indeed,  was 
their  rush  that  many  of  the  Prankish  warriors  mistook 

64 


, 


.      -• 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


it  for  a  real  attack.  When  three  or  four  counts,  with 
Hardrat  at  their  head,  raised  the  cry  of  treachery,  a  thou- 
sand loyal  men  ran,  shouting,  to  throw  themselves  be- 
tween their  king  and  the  heathen. 

But  Karl  sprang  before  his  warriors,  with  angry  com- 
mands to  halt,  and  the  movement  was  checked  as  sud- 
denly as  it  had  started.  Yet,  prompt  as  was  the  king's 
action,  there  was  one  sword  which  swung  before  he  could 
utter  his  first  command. 

The  moment  Hardrat  saw  the  Franks  come  running, 
he  ceased  his  shouts  and  wheeled  upon  Olvir,  with  up- 
raised sword,  thinking  to  cut  him  down  unawares.  He 
might  easier  have  surprised  a  hungry  leopard.  Before 
the  blow  could  fall,  the  Northman  had  thrust  Roland  out 
of  danger  and  leaped  in  under  the  descending  blade.  His 
arms  closed  about  the  burly  Thuringian  like  steel  bands. 
There  was  no  time  given  Hardrat  to  break  loose  or  to 
strike.  He  was  flung  up  bodily  and  cast  headlong  over 
Olvir's  shoulder. 

The  Thuringian's  astonishment  was  exceeded  only 
by  his  rage.  Half  stunned,  he  sat  up,  staring  wide-eyed, 
and  groped  for  his  sword-hilt.  But  Olvir  caught  up 
the  weapon,  and,  snapping  the  broad  blade  on  his  knee, 
tossed  the  fragments  back  to  their  owner  with  careless 
scorn. 

"  Ho !  the  red  pig  has  a  tumble ! "  roared  Liutrad,  at 
the  head  of  the  vikings,  and  the  grim  warriors  burst  into 
jeering  laughter. 

"  Saint  Michael !  who  jests  at  so  ill  a  time?  "  demanded 
Karl ;  and  he  wheeled  about,  his  face  flushed,  and  his  great 
figure  quivering  with  anger. 

Olvir  answered  him,  smiling,  "  My  sea-wolves,  lord 
king.  This  fair-haired  hero  and  I  have  played  a  merry 
game  behind  your  back." 

5  65 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  A  game  for  which  Hardrat  should  hang,  sire !  "  ex- 
claimed Roland.  "  He  sought  to  cut  down  Count  Olvir 
unawares." 

The  angry  flush  on  the  king's  face  deepened,  and  he 
confronted  Hardrat  with  a  look  before  which  the  stout 
warrior  visibly  trembled. 

"  Well  for  you,  Thuringian,  your  sword  did  no 
harm ! "  he  cried.  "  Lightly  as  the  young  hero  takes  it, 
I  am  yet  minded  to  ride  you  on  the  nearest  tree." 

"  Forgive  the  deed,  sire !  I  was  over-hasty,  —  I 
thought  the  heathen  were  about  to  attack  your  Majesty," 
stammered  Hardrat. 

"  We  will  allow  the  plea ;  the  thought  was  loyal, 
however  ill-advised.  Your  broken  sword  shall  be  the 
punishment  for  your  rashness." 

Had  Karl  been  less  keenly  intent  on  the  movements 
of  the  vikings,  the  affair  might  not  have  passed  so  lightly 
for  the  Thuringian.  But  as  Olvir  made  no  demand  for 
redress,  the  king  turned  away,  to  watch  with  a  kindling 
eye  the  manoeuvres  of  the  Northmen. 

At  the  first  threat  of  attack,  those  members  of  the 
crews  already  ashore  had  lined  up  so  as  to  present  to  the 
menacing  Franks  an  unbroken  wall  of  shields.  Then 
their  close  ranks  formed  swiftly  in  a  steel-faced  wedge, 
with  the  towering  figure  of  Floki  the  Crane  at  the  point. 
Behind  him  stood  Liutrad  Erlingson  with  the  sea-king's 
banner,  while  in  the  centre  of  the  wedge  the  poorer 
armed  Danes  surrounded  the  Frisian  sailors  and  Rothada. 
The  discipline  was  perfect.  Not  even  at  the  moment 
of  wildest  flurry,  when  the  Franks  were  charging  to  the 
attack,  had  a  single  viking  spear  been  cast  or  bow  been 
drawn. 

The  king's  powerful  face  glowed  with  pleasure  and 
admiration  at  sight  of  such  warriors. 

66 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  By  my  sword ! "  he  swore,  "  this  is  a  fair  day  for 
me!  Never  before  has  such  a  band  been  seen  south  of 
the  Rhine." 

"  Or  north  of  it,  lord  king,"  added  Olvir.  "  All  the 
champions  among  the  Trondir  sailed  with  me,  and  with 
them  many  other  great  warriors  from  Norway  and 
Sweden;  nor  did  Hroar  number  cowards  in  his  crews." 

"  They  may  well  be  named  the  pick  of  the  North. 
I  should  search  all  my  kingdom  to  find  their  like. 
Would  that  their  leader  had  pledged  himself  to  me  for 
a  lifetime!" 

The  speaker's  eyes  glowed,  and  he  laid  a  hand  on 
Olvir's  shoulder,  as  though  eager  to  take  full  possession 
of  such  a  liegeman.  The  Northman  would  have  shrunk 
from  the  familiar  touch,  had  he  not  perceived  the  earnest 
friendliness  of  the  king's  look.  But  his  reply  only  half 
satisfied  the  great  Frank. 

"  The  Norns  weave  the  future,"  he  said.  "  When  this 
war  is  ended  I  may  yet  wish  to  remain  your  man.  But  I 
cannot  speak  for  my  followers.  They  are  free  vikings." 

"  If  you  stay,  they  will  stay.  And  now  they  shall 
not  find  me  lacking  in  gifts.  To  begin,  I  name  as  yours 
all  the  wares  which  you  saved  from  the  Frisian  ship. 
But  did  I  not  see  women  in  the  midst  of  your  warriors? 
Where  is  the  daughter  of  Himiltrude?  " 

Olvir  turned  and  beckoned  to  his  followers. 

"  The  king  awaits  his  daughter,"  he  called.  "  Bring 
forward  the  little  vala." 

"  She  comes,"  answered  Floki ;  and  the  wedge  behind 
him  split  open  to  the  centre. 

When  Rothada  advanced  to  the  front,  with  her  broad- 
shouldered  Frisian  maid,  Floki  and  Liutrad  seated  her  on 
a  shield  between  them  and  moved  forward  at  a  swinging 
stride. 

6: 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Farewell  to  our  vala ! "  called  out  an  old  berserk,  as 
he  took  the  leader's  post  at  the  point  of  the  wedge. 

"  Farewell !  Come  again  to  us  soon,  little  maid ! " 
shouted  the  vikings. 

The  girl  waved  her  hand  to  the  grim  heathen,  who 
in  all  things  had  honored  her  as  they  would  have  honored 
a  daughter  of  their  own  kings.  She  could  almost  have 
wished  to  stay  with  them.  But  it  was  not  to  be.  Even 
now  the  king,  her  father,  awaited  her,  —  that  grand 
crowned  warrior.  Would  he  be  kind  to  her,  the  daughter 
of  the  wife  whom  he  had  thrust  aside  so  causelessly  to 
wed  the  Lombard  princess?  Half  hoping,  half  dismayed, 
the  girl  clasped  her  hands  and  gazed  at  her  father  with 
startled  eyes.  * 

Karl  stared  in  wonder  at  the  two  viking  leaders  and 
the  maiden  they  bore  between  them.  Could  this  be 
Himiltrude's  daughter,  —  a  child  of  the  cloisters,  —  this 
little  heathen  princess,  clad  in  rarest  furs  and  loaded 
down  with  glittering  ornaments? 

But  the  moment  of  doubt  was  brief.  As  the  saluting 
vikings  placed  the  girl  before  her  father  and  drew  back, 
she  raised  her  head,  which  fear  had  caused  her  to  droop, 
and  looked  up  at  him  again  with  wide-open,  appealing 
eyes. 

"  Himiltrude ! "  he  cried,  and  he  drew  the  trembling 
girl  into  his  arms. 

"  All 's  well  with  the  maiden,"  muttered  Floki. 

"  All  is  well,"  repeated  Olvir,  and  he  waved  the 
steersmen  back  to  the  wedge. 


68 


CHAPTER  VI 

He  who  alone  there  was  deemed  best  of  all, 
The  War-lord  of  the  Danes,  well  worthy  of  men. 

HEL-RIDE  OF  BRYNHILD. 

HILE  Floki  and  Liutrad  re- 
turned to  their  posts,  their  leader 
sprang  again  to  where  Roland 
stood  leaning  upon  Gerold's 
shoulder. 

"  You  're      weary,      sword- 
rother,"  he  exclaimed.    "  Come 
with  me  —  " 

"  Wait,  friend,"  replied  Ro- 
md.    "  Yonder  is  the  maiden  of 
whom  I  spoke. 

"Fastrada— ?" 

"  She  stands  apart  with  Count  Hardrat,  whom  you 
threw,  and  Lupus,  Duke  of  the  Vascons." 

"  Lead  on.  I  am  eager  to  know  the  maiden  who  has 
so  fast  bound  a  warrior's  heart,"  replied  Olvir,  smiling. 

Gerold  glanced  about  at  the  king.  "We're  free  to 
go,"  he  said.  "  Our  lord  king  has  thought  only  for  the 
princess." 

Roland  nodded  impatiently  and  advanced  at  once,  a 
hand  on  the  shoulder  of  either  friend.  But  the  gaunt 
figure  of  Count  Anselm  blocked  the  way. 

"  Stay  a  little,  Roland,"  he  said.  "  Here  are  two  who 
fought  both  with  and  against  Otkar  the  Dane,  and  would 
grip  hands  with  his  foster-son." 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Both  as  friends  and  as  foes,  my  kinsman  loved  the 
high  lords  of  King  Karl,"  replied  Olvir. 

The  judge's  severe  face  softened  as  Olvir  clasped  his 
bony  hand,  and  he  smiled  as  he  turned  with  him  to  the 
serene-faced  churchman. 

"  Here,  hero,"  he  said,  "  is  one  of  the  shepherds  of 
the  Christian  fold  who  is  neither  wolf  nor  boar." 

"  I  have  eyes,"  replied  Olvir,  simply.  "  When  I  see 
a  good  man,  I  know  him." 

"  *  There  is  none  good  save  God/  "  quoted  the  abbot, 
piously;  but  he  smiled  at  the  sincerity  in  the  young 
Northman's  look  and  tone. 

" '  Be  ye  perfect  even  as  God  is  perfect/ "  quoted 
Olvir,  in  turn. 

The  Franks  stared  in  amazement. 

"  By  all  the  saints !  "  cried  Anselm ;  "  the  lad  knows 
Holy  Writ,  —  a  heathen  monk !  " 

"  We  shall  make  of  him  a  Christian  layman,  at  the 
least,"  rejoined  Fulrad,  his  broad,  kindly  face  aglow. 

"  Best  leave  me  heathen,"  said  Olvir.  "  If  I  become 
anything  else,  it  will  be  an  Arian,  whom,  according  to 
Otkar,  you  name  heretic,  and  hold  to  be  more  accursed 
than  the  unbelievers." 

"  We  will  trust  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Christ  to  lead 
you  into  the  true  fold,"  replied  Fulrad. 

"  Meantime,  Roland  waits  to  greet  his  may"  sug- 
gested Gerold. 

All  smiled  at  the  hint,  and  the  two  high  councillors 
hastened  to  make  way  for  the  lover,  with  hearty  God- 
speeds. 

The  approach  of  the  three  friends  had  by  no  means 
passed  unobserved  by  the  queen's  maiden ;  and  when  pres- 
ently they  stood  before  her,  there  was  an  added  depth  of 
color  in  her  cheeks,  and  her  bosom  rose  and  fell  to  a 

70 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


quickened  heart-beat.  While  the  great  Count  Roland 
bent  to  kiss  her  hand,  she  stared  with  glowing  eyes  at 
the  sea-king.  Here  was  a  warrior  such  as  must  have 
been  that  grand  old  Saracen,  —  a  hero  with  a  soul  of  fire, 
proud  as  a  king,  who  would  laugh  at  death  as  at  a  jest. 

Unable  to  meet  the  piercing  brightness  of  Olvir's 
black  eyes,  she  lowered  her  gaze  and  bowed  as  she  had 
bowed  to  the  king.  Many  a  lord  had  gazed  at  her  with 
the  same  admiring  look,  but  never  one  who  had  roused  a 
response  in  her  own  heart  strong  enough  to  over-ride  her 
cool  and  purposeful  coquetry.  The  blue  tints  in  her  eyes 
deepened,  and  she  stood  thrilling  with  a  delicious  fear. 
Only  by  a  strong  effort  did  she  succeed  in  raising  her  lashes 
to  meet  the  expected  love-message  in  the  stranger's  eyes. 
To  her  astonishment  and  chagrin,  the  calm,  full  gaze  that 
met  her  glance  told  only  of  frank  admiration. 

Not  that  Olvir  was  unmoved.  He  had  seen  many 
beautiful  maidens  among  the  blond  daughters  of  the 
Northern  earls  and  bondir,  but  never  one  whose  loveli- 
ness was  as  the  loveliness  of  this  dark  daughter  of 
Thuringia.  Half  bewildered,  he  drank  in  her  rich  beauty 
with  eager  delight.  Yet  he  did  not  forget  that  this  was 
the  maiden  whom  his  sword-brother  loved. 

"  So  I  stand  before  the  daughter  of  the  brave  Count 
Rudulf,"  he  said  quietly.  "No  longer,  Roland,  do  I 
wonder  that  the  maiden  holds  your  heart  in  leash.  I 
trust  that  she  will  accept  this  trinket,  which  I  offer  in 
token  of  friendship." 

Great  as  had  been  Fastrada's  disappointment,  she 
took  with  eagerness  the  gold  brooch  which  Olvir  un- 
clasped from  his  cloak.  At  the  touch  of  his  fingers  she 
blushed  rosier  than  before. 

"  A  gift  with  true  friendship  is  doubly  gracious,"  she 
murmured. 

7* 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  I  could  not  give  less  to  the  maiden  whom  my 
brother  loves,"  answered  Olvir,  and  he  drew  Roland  to 
his  side. 

"  Satan  seize  the  pagan ! "  muttered  Duke  Lupus. 
"  He  woos  the  girl  openly  for  his  friend." 

"  More  harm  should  he  speak  for  himself,"  replied 
Count  Hardrat.  "  The  girl's  eye  is  caught  by  his  glitter. 
We  must  break  in  on  the  talk.  Bid  him  and  the  counts 
to  your  feast.  I  have  a  plot  in  mind." 

"  I  trust  to  your  counsel,"  replied  Lupus,  and  he 
thrust  himself  half  between  Fastrada  and  Olvir. 

"  Greeting,  lord  count,"  he  said.  "  I  am  Lupus, 
Duke  of  Vasconia,  a  child  of  kings." 

"  Greeting,  lord  duke,"  replied  Olvir,  coldly.  "  I  am 
Olvir  Thorbiornson,  heir  to  the  King  of  Lade." 

"  I  gladly  welcome  a  king's  son  to  my  south  country. 
In  two  days  I  give  a  feast  to  our  Lord  Karl.  I  trust  that 
you  will  be  present  with  your  companions." 

"  I  give  thanks.  I  will  come,  and  so,  doubtless,  will 
my  friends." 

"  Farewell,  then,  for  a  time,"  said  Lupus.  Unable  to 
witness  any  longer  Fastrada's  preference  for  the  new- 
comers, he  bowed  to  the  party  and  turned  away,  drag- 
ging with  him  the  unwilling  Hardrat. 

As  Fastrada  sought  to  catch  again  the  eye  of  the 
perverse  stranger,  a  barge  came  sweeping  downstream 
and  headed  in  for  a  small  wharf,  just  above  the  viking 
ships.  As  the  craft  made  fast  to  the  landing,  the  high- 
pitched  imperious  voice  of  Karl  rang  out  above  the  loud 
talk  of  his  retainers :  "  Lord  Olvir !  Where  is  Lord 
Olvir?  " 

Olvir  glanced  at  Roland,  and  hesitated.  But  Fas- 
trada said  quickly :  "  Go !  Gerold  and  I  will  see  Count 
Roland  aboard  the  barge." 

72 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


As  the  Northman  drew  near,  Karl  smiled  and  hailed 
him  with  more  friendliness  than  ever  in  his  voice :  "  Here 
comes  my  Dane  hawk,  —  truly,  a  king's  son,  no  less  in 
deed  than  in  bearing!  But  you  are  no  spokesman,  Olvir. 
This  little  maid  has  told  in  full  how  you  saved  herself 
and  my  sister's  son  from  the  savage  Hroar,  and,  at  her 
bidding,  loosed  the  thrall-bonds  of  the  Frisians." 

"  That  was  the  doing  of  Floki,  lord  king,  —  yonder 
tall  man  at  the  fore  of  my  crews.  In  past  years  he  had 
been  a  sword-brother  to  the  Frisian  shipmaster,  and  so 
had  the  disposal  both  of  ship  and  thralls.  They  should 
all  have  burned  together,  had  not  this  little  vala  —  this 
little  seeress  —  offered  him  her  head-ring  for  ransom." 

"  Yet  she  still  wears  the  circlet." 

"  There  are  few  men  more  grim  than  Floki  the  Crane ; 
but  he  is  no  greedy  trader.  When  he  yielded  to  the 
maiden's  wish  it  was  not  to  rob  her  glossy  tresses  of  their 
ring.  As  to  the  rest,  I  '11  not  say  that  the  fate  of  any  in 
the  trade-ship  would  have  been  easy  to  bear  had  Hroar 
prospered." 

"  Truly  so !  You  call  yourself  an  unbeliever ;  but 
surely  some  saint  guided  your  ships  into  the  Seine  Mouth." 

"  No  saint  steered  Hroar's  keels,  but  a  traitor's  evil 
counsel.  Roland  can  better  tell  you  how  the  Dane  boar 
made  boast  of  tidings  from  your  hall.  There  are  false 
hearts  near  your  high-seat,  lord  king.  Had  they  their  will, 
even  now  this  child  would  be  grinding  meal  in  Nordmannia, 
and  Roland  waiting  his  doom  on  Thor's  Stone." 

Karl  pressed  his  daughter  to  him  with  a  quick 
movement. 

"Why  should  they  seek  to  harm  my  little  cloister- 
dove?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Has  Wittikind  the  Saxon  no  cause  to  strike  at  the 
heart  of  the  Frank  king?  " 

73 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  However  much  a  rebel  and  traitor,  the  Westphalian 
is  not  so  mean  as  to  seek  vengeance  in  the  thraldom  of 
a  maid-child." 

"  Yet  what  if  he  sought  to  have  a  hostage  in  safe 
keeping,  should  he  venture  again  Rhineward  and  be  taken 
thrall?  What  better  safeguard  then  than  the  first-born 
child  of  King  Karl  —  even  though  that  child  be  a 
daughter?  " 

"  My  sword  !  a  shrewd  guess.  Would  to  Heaven 
the  crafty  Saxon  had  won  his  seven  feet  of  ground! 
And  yet,  he  is  a  brave  man,  fighting  for  his  fatherland. 
Rather  do  I  curse  the  traitors  in  my  hall." 

The  king  looked  about  at  the  surrounding  lords,  his 
grey  eyes  aflame.  But  their  glance  rested  on  none  whom 
he  had  cause  to  doubt,  and  his  genial  humor  quickly 
returned. 

"  My  thanks  for  your  warning,  Dane  hawk.  I  shall 
bear  it  in  mind.  And  now,  if  such  is  your  wish,  you  will 
pledge  yourself  my  man  for  this  war." 

"  I  stand  ready  to  pledge  myself,  lord  king  ;  but, 
man  or  not,  I  am  a  king's  son,  and  will  not  bend  knee  to 
any  one,  living  or  dead." 

"  Be  assured.  I  owe  you  too  much  to  hold  to  the 
knee-kissing.  You  shall  be  to  me  as  the  son  of  a  brother 
king,  come  to  aid  me  for  a  season,  —  many  seasons,  I 
hope." 

Fairly  overcome  by  such  an  answer  from  the  ruler  of 
half  Europe,  Olvir  at  once  clasped  his  hands  together  and 
placed  them  between  the  king's. 

"Witness  all,"  he  called  aloud;  "now  do  I,  Olvir, 
son  of  Thorbiorn,  pledge  myself  loyal  man  to  Karl,  King 
of  the  Franks,  so  long  as  he  wars  upon  the  Saracen  folk." 

"It  is  well,  my  Dane  hawk,"  replied  the  king, 
instantly  releasing  his  clasp.  "  I  now  have  a  bird  of  mettle 

74 


-f^ 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

to  fly  at  the  swart  pagans,  —  ay,  and  a  wolf-pack  to  follow 
him.  Saint  Michael!  those  are  stout  heroes!  With  all 
your  birth  and  spirit,  lad,  I  wonder  to  see  such  warriors 
under  the  banner  of  a  count  so  young  and  slight." 

"There's  no  cause  to  wonder,  lord  king.  In  all  my 
following  stands  no  man  to  outmatch  me  in  weapon-play, 
in  running,  or  in  swimming.  Of  runes  I  know  all  that 
Otkar  knew,  and  that  is  not  little.  In  his  wander-years  he 
gathered  many  writings,  —  Greek  and  Roman  and  Arabic. 
Each  and  all,  I  copied  them  on  parchment  of  my  own 
make  when,  a  child,  I  dwelt  outlaw  with  my  kinsman  in 
the  mound  of  my  father's  father." 

"  In  the  mound !    How  came  you  to  dwell  in  a  tomb?  " 

Olvir  half  frowned,  and  looked  at  his  questioner  with 
a  sombre  light  in  his  dark  eyes.  But  then  Rothada's 
upturned  face  met  his  gaze.  At  once  his  brow  cleared,  and 
he  answered  with  no  trace  of  the  bitterness  which  had 
welled  up  from  his  heart,  — 

"  It  was  thus,  lord  king.  When  tidings  of  Thorbiorn's 
death  came  north,  my  mother,  the  emir's  daughter,  died 
in  her  bed;  and  while  they  bound  on  her  hel-shoes,  I  was 
laid,  an  unsprinkled  babe,  at  the  feet  of  Skuli,  my  father's 
brother.  But  he  would  not  take  me  up.  He  bade  them 
bear  me  out  upon  the  fell-side.  Then  Otkar  slew  many 
of  Skuli's  men,  and  would  have  slain  Skuli,  had  he  not 
fled.  When  Otkar  stood  alone  in  Trondheim  Hall,  he 
took  me  up  and  bore  me  by  sea,  through  darkness  and 
storm,  to  the  wife  of  Koll  the  Outlaw.  But  Otkar  was 
himself  outlawed  for  the  slaying,  and,  when  a  winter  was 
gone,  he  brought  me  to  Starkad's  grave-mound,  where  he 
had  made  himself  a  dwelling.  Most  daring  of  all  his 
deeds  was  that  breaking  of  his  uncle's  mound,  for  not 
even  he  might  have  matched  the  Hero  of  Bravallahede. 
Yet  the  fearless  champion  made  his  abode  with  the  ashes 

75 


I 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

of  the  king,  on  the  wild  cliffs ;  and  there  he  reared  me,  his 
fosterling,  training  me  in  all  games  of  skill  and  in  runes 
of  many  tongues,  until  my  fourteenth  year.  It  was  a  hard 
training,  for  Otkar  tried  me  in  all  things  to  the  utmost 
of  my  strength." 

"  Even  as  Sigmund  tried  Sinfiotli." 

"Truly  so,  lord  king,  and  with  like  purpose.  He 
intended  that  I  should  hurl  Skuli  from  the  high-seat  of 
Lade,  and  then  aid  him  to  avenge  my  father." 

"  God  alone  could  have  stayed  the  crafty  grey  bear 
from  his  purpose !  You  were  not  with  him  when  he  came 
to  the  court  of  Carloman,  my  brother." 

"  The  Norns  —  or  your  God  —  willed  otherwise ;  for 
Skuli,  my  uncle,  stepped  into  the  shoe  with  me,  and  so, 
though  lawful  heir,  I  am  not  yet  on  the  high-seat  of  Lade. 
Otkar  was  still  in  outlawry,  and  by  our  compact  with 
Skuli  I  could  not  join  him  when  he  fared  south  to  pay 
what  we  wrongly  thought  to  be  the  greater  of  the  blood- 
debts.  But  my  training  was  not  wasted.  With  Floki 
yonder,  I  swept  the  Dane  shores  for  the  traitor  Hroar, 
and  the  bairn  whose  shield  could  ward  a  half-stroke  of 
Otkar's  axe  proved  the  bane  of  many  a  champion. 
Though  Otkar  met  his  fate  before  vengeance  was  done, 
the  sword  which  he  whetted  has  at  last  sought  out  the 
murderer  and  paid  the  blood-debt  of  my  father." 

Karl  gazed  down  into  the  sternly  joyful  face  of  the 
young  sea-king. 

"  No  more  do  I  wonder  that  you  lead  men,"  he 
exclaimed.  "  It  is  a  fair  day  which  brings  me  such  a 
liegeman ! " 

"  Not  the  day  should  be  praised,  lord  king,  but  this 
little  maiden." 

"  She 's  very  near  my  heart,  Olvir,  and  I  bear  her  to 
one  who  will  greet  her  with  a  mother's  love.  The  barge 

76 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

waits,  and  I  am  eager  to  place  the  child  in  Hildegarde's 
arms.  Farewell  until  to-morrow.  Eggihard,  my  steward, 
has  gone  to  choose  your  camp.  You  have  only  to  sail 
a  few  bowshots  downstream.  Eggihard  will  see  to  it  that 
you  receive  food  and  drink  as  you  may  need." 

"  I  give  thanks,  lord  king,'*  answered  Olvir,  and, 
stooping,  he  kissed  Rothada  on  the  forehead. 

"  Farewell,  Earl  Olvir ! "  cried  the  girl,  in  a  merry 
voice;  and,  clasping  the  hand  of  her  father,  she  turned 
away  down  the  river-bank.  Olvir's  face  softened  as  he 
watched  them  go,  —  the  mighty  King  of  the  Franks  and 
Lombards  hand  in  hand  with  the  little  convent  maiden. 
His  eyes  glistened  as  he  saw  how  Karl  bent  to  caress  the 
child's  tresses.  Truly,  here  was  a  royal  friend,  —  a  hero 
whom  even  the  Blood  of  Odin  might  serve  with  honor. 

Fastrada  sat  among  the  war-counts  chosen  to  accom- 
pany the  king,  with  Roland  between  herself  and  Gerold. 
As  Olvir  looked  from  the  king  to  his  wounded  foster- 
brother,  his  glance  chanced  to  fall  upon  the  queen's 
maiden.  He  turned  quickly  away,  then  looked  again. 
After  all,  so  long  as  he  did  not  give  way  to  desire,  was 
there  any  reason  why  he  should  not  enjoy  the  maiden's 
beauty?  For  what  purpose  was  sight  given  but  to  see? 

Silent  and  motionless  as  a  statue,  he  stood  gazing 
after  the  barge,  until  the  bony  hand  of  Floki  the  Crane 
fell  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  You  look  over-closely  at  the  dark  maiden,  earl,"  he 
said  bluntly. 

Olvir  frowned,  but  answered  coldly,  "Be  assured. 
My  sword-brother  loves  the  maiden." 

"  The  more  cause  to  heed  me.  Listen,  son  of  Thor- 
biorn.  The  gerfalcon  should  fly  high.  Were  Otkar  here 
with  his  grey  wit,  I  know  what  quarry  he  would  name 
for  your  love  quest,  —  no  common  bride  —  " 

77 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

" What!   that  child?    You're  mad  —  " 

"  Not  I.  If  you  but  use  shrewdly  your  nimble  wit, 
your  wedding-seat  shall  be  on  the  bench  of  a  world-king. 
As  to  the  maiden,  she  is  an  opening  bud,  whose  blossom 
will  prove  far  fairer  than  that  slant-eyed  werwolf." 

"Werwolf!" 

"Ay,"  went  on  Floki,  unchecked  by  the  hissing 
menace  in  his  earl's  voice ;  "  I  am  not  blind.  That 
maiden's  lips  are  red  as  blood;  and  if  ever  I  saw  wolfs 
eyes  in  human  being  —  " 

Olvir  burst  into  hearty  laughter. 

"  Ho,  Floki,  you  're  dogwise ! "  he  cried.  "  Not  even 
our  little  vala  owns  milder  eyes  or  purer  look  than  my 
sword-brother's  may.  Go  now;  take  the  ships  down- 
stream to  the  camp  where  the  king's  steward  waits  our 
coming.  I  go  afoot." 

Floki  glowered  down  upon  his  earl,  a  wry  look  on  his 
long,  sharp  face. 

"  Good  mead  in  a  hoopless  cask,  —  wise  words  in  a 
loath  ear,"  he  croaked ;  and  turning  on  his  heel,  he  stalked 
back  to  the  viking  wedge. 

A  word  sent  the  crews  leaping  aboard  their  ships, 
and  quickly  all  five  craft  were  headed  downstream. 


SXXBb 


CHAPTER  VII 

As  he  sat  on  the  high-seat, 
That  man  of  the  Southland. 

SONG  OP  ATLI. 

JFT  alone  on  the  knoll,  Olvir 
irned  his  gaze  back  to  the  now 
m          m  ..^distant   barge,    and   watched   it 

^^"  musingly  until  it  disappeared  be- 

f  yond  a  clump  of  woods.    Floki's 

I  warning  had  moved  him  more 

JJ^^gg^  than  he  had  cared  to  acknowl- 

*  edge.    Though  far  from  being  as 

profound  as  had  been  Otkar,  the 
man  was  possessed  of  excep- 
tional shrewdness,  and  the  knowledge  of  this  now  com- 
pelled the  young  sea-king  to  pause  and  ponder  his  words. 
Could  they  be  true?  He  smiled  at  the  absurdity  of  the 
question.  But  then  he  remembered  the  noble  Frank  whom 
he  had  chosen  for  foster-brother,  and  the  smile  left  his  face. 
However  pure  and  innocent,  what  was  this  maiden  to  him? 
"  It  is  I  who  am  dogwise,  not  Floki,"  he  muttered, 
and  he  turned  his  back  on  Casseneuil. 

Within  a  bow-shot  of  the  king's  pavilion  he  came 
upon  Count  Hardrat,  and  his  quick  eye  noted  that  the 
man's  first  impulse  was  to  avoid  him.  But  as  the  North- 
man approached,  the  Thuringian  advanced  to  meet  him. 

"  I  would  make  my  peace,"  he  said  with  a  gruff 
show  of  cordiality.  "  Heroes  should  not  bear  malice,  — 
and  more,  you  had  the  best  of  it." 

79 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  Say  no  more  of  the  wrangle,"  replied  Olvir,  quickly. 
"I  heard  your  name,  but  it  slips  my  memory." 

"  Hardrat,  a  count  of  Thuringia,  —  count  of  a  little 
shire,  when  I  should  hold  the  Sorb  Mark,  if  right  were 
done  me,"  grumbled  the  Thuringian.  "  But  old  Rudulf 
has  a  pretty  daughter  in  the  king's  hall;  and  when  was 
Karl  ever  known  —  " 

Olvir  turned  upon  the  speaker,  his  eyes  ablaze. 

"  How!  "  he  demanded;  "  do  you  say  anything  against 
the  maiden?" 

The  Thuringian  recoiled  as  though  struck. 

"I  —  I  —  no !  "  he  stammered. 

"Then  ward  your  tongue." 

The  count  sought  to  meet  his  gaze,  but  failed. 

"  My  lord  Dane,"  he  protested  half  sullenly,  "  are  you 
not  over-hasty?  Surely,  to  speak  without  offence  of  a 
maiden  whom  you  have  met  but  once  — " 

"  To  me  she  is  as  a  sister.  She  is  all  but  betrothed 
to  my  foster-brother.  But  no  more.  I  mistook  your 
tone.  And  now  I  should  hold  it  a  favor  to  be  told  whose 
are  yonder  tents.  They  differ  from  all  others  I  see 
about." 

"  Well  they  may.  It  is  the  camp  of  the  Saracen 
envoys,  —  Al  Arabi  and  —  " 

"Al  Arabi  — Al  Arabi!    How  else  is  he  called?" 

"  He  is  named  after  the  wise  King  of  the  Hebrews, 
though  his  people  give  it  a  strange  sound,  —  Sul  — 
Suleyman." 

"Thor  smite  me!"  cried  Olvir,  his  eyes  glittering. 
"  My  thanks  for  the  word.  Farewell,  earl." 

Before  the  astonished  count  could  answer,  the  North- 
man was  walking  swiftly  toward  the  Saracen  camp. 
Very  soon  he  came  to  an  open-fronted  pavilion,  in  whose 
recess  a  venerable  figure  reclined  on  a  low  divan,  dron- 

80 


-.#> 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

ing  out  a  passage  of  the  Koran.  Olvir  halted  a  moment 
to  stare  at  the  patriarch,  then  stepped  quietly  within  the 
entrance. 

"  Peace  be  with  you,  O  emir,"  he  said  in  Arabic. 

"  And  with  you  peace,"  answered  the  Saracen,  as  he 
lifted  his  eyes.  Their  hawk-like  glance  rested  wonder- 
ingly  upon  the  bright  figure  of  the  Northman;  but  then 
it  was  drawn  by  the  glow  of  the  great  ruby  on  the 
pommel  of  Al-hatif,  and  in  an  instant  the  Arab's  wonder 
had  given  place  to  fury. 

"Dog  of  a  kaffir!"  he  cried,  and  he  leaped  to  his 
feet.  A  taboret,  set  with  dishes,  stood  before  him.  Spurn- 
ing it  aside,  he  advanced  with  a  rush,  till  his  claw-like 
hands  threatened  the  smooth  cheek  of  the  Northman. 

"Al-hatif!  Al-hatif!  The  sword  of  the  Prophet!" 
he  shrieked.  "What  kaffir  dog  bears  the  khalif's  gift? 
Eblis  take  the  thief !  May  his  arm  wither  —  " 

"  Stay !  "  commanded  Olvir.  "  Would  you  curse  your 
own  blood?  " 

The  Arab  paused,  transfixed,  and  Olvir  gazed  un- 
wavering into  his  glaring  eyes.  A  dozen  or  more 
Moslems,  weapons  in  hand,  came  flocking  about  the 
pavilion,  drawn  by  the  outcry  of  their  sheik.  But  Olvir, 
heedless  of  their  bared  scimetars,  continued  gravely: 
"  Many  winters,  O  sheik,  have  whitened  the  mountains 
of  Armenia  since  my  father  and  Otkar,  whom  you  called 
El  Jinni,  gave  oath  to  you  and  left  you  lying  bound  on  the 
river's  bank.  Both  Thorbiorn  and  his  bride,  who  was 
my  mother,  long  since  passed  over  the  bridge  of  the 
dead,  and  El  Jinni  has  now  followed;  but  the  oath  has 
ever  been  kept.  None  other  than  your  blood  has  borne 
the  khalif's  gift." 

The  sheik  made  no  reply.  He  was  gazing  searchingly 
into  Olvir's  dark  face,  his  own  stern  features  softened  by 
6  81 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

a  look  of  deepest  yearning.  His  doubts  were  soon  ended. 
With  joy  as  impetuous  and  unmeasured  as  had  been  his 
anger,  he  sprang  forward  and  seized  the  young  man  in 
his  arms. 

"  Son  of  Gulnare !  Seed  of  my  House ! "  he  cried. 
"Allah  is  good!  You  come  to  cheer  my  age  with  your 
youth  and  beauty." 

Olvir  reverently  returned  the  embrace  of  his  mother's 
father,  but  answered  quickly  and  with  decision :  "  Deny 
not  the  justice  of  Allah,  O  sheik!  Into  the  North  He 
sent  my  mother,  —  and  I  am  a  son  of  the  North.  While 
this  war  lasts  we  shall  together  fight  the  Omyyad 
beneath  your  black  banners.  Afterwards  I  must  return 
here  among  the  Afranj,  if  not  to  my  father's  people." 

"Allah's  will  be  done!  We  shall  see  when  the  time 
is  at  hand.  Now,  at  least,  you  will  eat  my  salt  and  abide 
with  me  this  night." 

"  Be  it  as  you  desire.  Yet,  first,  I  would  see  to  my 
men." 

"  Go ;  but  return  quickly.  My  eyes  yearn  to  feast 
upon  the  son  of  my  daughter." 

Reluctantly  the  sheik's  arms  released  their  clasp,  and 
Olvir  darted  away  along  the  river-bank.  Al  Arabi,  with 
a  curt  command  to  his  swarthy  followers  to  withdraw, 
stood  gazing  after  his  grandson  until  he  vanished  behind 
a  group  of  booths. 

"  Allah  be  praised  this  day ! "  he  murmured  fervently 
as  he  returned  to  his  cushioned  seat.  "  Kasim,  my  son- 
in-law,  is  a  thorn  in  the  flesh;  but  this  bright  child  of 
Gulnare  renews  my  youth.  His  eye  is  as  the  soaring 
falcon's;  his  step  as  the  fleet  gazelle's." 

Nor  was  the  sheik's  praise  unmerited.  No  runner  in 
the  Prankish  camp  could  have  covered  the  mile  down- 
stream and  back  with  near  the  swiftness  of  the  young 

82 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


Northman;  yet  when  he  stood  again  at  the  door  of  the 
pavilion  and  stepped  in  upon  the  costly  Persian  rugs,  he 
betrayed  no  other  signs  of  the  race  than  a  slight  flush  in 
his  dark  cheeks  and  an  added  depth  of  breathing. 

"By  the  Beard!"  exclaimed  Al  Arabi;  "as  Zora 
among  coursers,  so  is  the  son  of  Gulnare  among  runners." 

"  I  have  run  down  the  grey  wolf  in  fair  chase,"  replied 
Olvir,  simply,  and  at  the  beckoning  gesture  of  the  sheik, 
he  seated  himself  beside  the  old  man  in  the  same  Oriental 
posture.  Al  Arabi  smiled  and  clapped  his  hands.  Almost 
immediately  an  Arab  attendant,  in  loose  shirt  and  baggy 
trousers,  appeared  at  the  entrance  and  salaamed  to  the 
ground. 

"  Bring  food,"  said  Al  Arabi. 

The  man  salaamed  again  and  sprang  away.  As  he 
disappeared,  Olvir  turned  gravely  to  the  sheik. 

"What  says  the  Prophet,  O  kinsman?  — *  Better  is 
it  to  do  justice  than  to  sit  at  meat/  Before  I  taste  your 
salt,  it  is  well  that  right  should  be  done  between  us.  It 
seems  to  me  just  that  I  should  now  return  to  my  mother's 
father  the  sword  which  my  father  took  by  force.  Here, 
then,  is  Al-hatif.  I  restore  it  willingly,  though  I  cannot 
say  that  the  deed  is  a  joyful  one." 

Olvir  was  not  long  kept  waiting  to  see  how  Al 
Arabi  would  meet  this  act  of  generous  pride.  With  a 
quick  movement  the  old  Moslem  seized  the  sword  and 
sprang  to  his  feet.  The  beautiful  blade  whipped  from 
its  sheath  and  flashed  around  the  sheik's  head  in  bright 
circles. 

"  Allah  acbar !  "  he  cried.  "  The  sword  of  the  Prophet 
returns !  Once  again  my  hand  grasps  the  khalif 's  gift !  " 

Olvir  turned  his  head  away,  unable  longer  to  hide  his 
anguish  at  the  loss  of  the  sword.  He  thought  of  the  day 
in  Starkad's  mound,  when  Otkar  first  put  the  coveted 
__ 8* 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

plaything  in  his  childish  hands.  Since  then  it  had  never 
lain  beyond  his  reach,  night  or  day,  and  now  — ! 

In  the  midst  of  his  rejoicing,  Al  Arabi  paused  and 
turned  his  head  to  glance  at  his  grandson.  A  moment 
later  sword  and  scabbard  were  lying  across  Olvir's  feet. 

"  Look,  my  son !  "  cried  the  old  man.  "  The  khalif  s 
gift  is  my  gift.  For  a  little  the  light  of  the  blade  blinded 
me.  But  how  could  I  take  from  my  daughter's  son  the 
only  inheritance  she  left  him?  Once  the  sword  was  force$ 
from  my  grasp ;  now  my  heart  rejoices  to  part  with  it  to 
the  son  of  Gulnare." 

Olvir  sought  to  answer,  but  the  words  choked  in  his 
throat.  An  eye  far  less  keen  than  the  sheik's,  however, 
could  have  seen  the  gratitude  which  lighted  the  young 
viking's  face.  His  eyes  were  shining  through  a  mist  of 
tears.  Al  Arabi  gravely  seated  himself  beside  his  grand- 
son, and,  sheathing  the  sword,  clasped  it  once  more  to 
Olvir's  belt. 

The  first  attendant  and  another  now  entered  the  tent, 
bearing  between  them  a  taboret  set  with  food.  The 
second  attendant  withdrew  at  once ;  but  his  fellow  waited 
for  further  orders. 

"Where  is  Vali  Kasim?"  asked  Al  Arabi. 

"  He  goes  with  the  herd  to  the  river,  O  sheik." 

"  When  they  return,  bid  him  come  this  way." 

The  man  bowed  and  slipped  noiselessly  away,  while 
the  host,  having  first  tasted  each  dish  on  the  table,  urged 
his  guest  to  eat.  He  had  no  need  to  repeat  the  bidding. 
Olvir's  youth  and  health  would  have  given  relish  to  the 
plainest  fare,  and  the  mutton  stew  was  very  savory. 
When  the  last  drop  of  gravy  had  been  sopped  up,  Olvir 
turned  with  good-will  to  the  dates  and  candied  fruit, 
which  the  sheik  was  attacking  with  the  zest  of  an  Ori- 
ental. Hearty,  however,  as  was  the  younger  man's  appe- 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

tite,  his  palate,  unaccustomed  to  such  confections,  soon 
cloyed  with  their  spicy  sv/eetness.  Al  Arabi  gravely 
shook  his  head  at  this  sign  of  foreign  taste,  and  then  he 
smiled  in  recollection  of  the  past. 

"  It  is  clear  that  you  were  not  raised  in  the  land  of 
the  faithful,  son  of  my  daughter,"  he  observed.  "  You 
lack  the  sweet  tooth." 

"  I  will  not  turn  from  honey  in  the  comb ;  but  these 
sweets  —  " 

"  The  spices  of  the  Far  East.  You  will  in  time  become 
used  to  their  flavor,"  explained  the  sheik,  and  he  held  up 
a  slice  of  candied  pomegranate  between  thumb  and  finger. 
But  the  sweetmeat  did  not  reach  his  mouth.  Struck  by 
a  sudden  thought,  he  dropped  the  titbit  to  clutch  Olvir's 
shoulder.  His  eyes  were  ablaze  with  intense  feeling. 

"Het,  by  the  Prophet's  Beard,  you  shall  in  truth  learn 
the  taste  of  Moslem  sweets!  Who  is  Kasim,  that  he 
should  stand  first  with  the  Beni  Al  Abbas?  My  word  is 
yet  weightiest  in  the  council  of  the  sheiks.  When  this 
lion  of  the  Afranj  has  broken  the  might  of  that  dog 
Abd-er- Rahman,  my  daughter's  son  —  my  daughter's  son 
shall  be  Emir  of  Andalus ! " 

Olvir's  cheeks  flushed  and  his  eyes  sparkled  at  the 
alluring  prospect;  but  his  clear  intellect  was  quick  to 
perceive  the  wildness  of  the  scheme. 

"  Hearken  a  little,  father  of  my  mother,"  He  said.  "  I 
give  thanks  for  the  good  thought;  but  how  can  such  be? 
Did  Allah  uprear  me  a  kaffir,  that  I  might  rule  over  the 
faithful?" 

"  The  mission  of  Islam  is  to  bring  unbelievers  into 
the  faith." 

"  I  hold  to  no  faith  but  my  own.  No  priest  or 
prophet  shall  set  the  bounds  of  my  thought.  I  see  much 
good  in  the  words  of  the  Son  of  Mary;  but  little  has 

85 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Mohammed  added  to  them.  I  believe  that  God  is  in  all 
men  alike,  and  that  each  man  is  good,  not  according  as 
he  is  Moslem  or  Jew,  Christian  or  heathen,  but  as  he  does 
in  his  deeds  the  will  of  the  Spirit  within  him.  But 
enough !  I  give  you  pain." 

"  Hei  !  you  speak  in  a  strange  tongue,  son  of  Gulnare. 
Yet  the  tongue  can  be  bridled.  You  believe  in  the  One 
God.  For  the  rest,  there  need  be  —  " 

"  Stay,  father.  What  is  the  creed  of  Islam,  which  the 
proselyte  must  cry  aloud?  No;  it  cannot  be.  Even  my 
hair  would  betray  me." 

"Bismillah!  The  All-powerful  One  will  disclose  his 
decrees  in  due  time.  If  yours  is  the  Afranj  hair,  is  not 
Abd-er-Rahman's  the  Afranj  eye?  '  Blue  of  eye,  and  foul 
of  face/  the  saying  is  against  the  Omyyad;  but  there  is 
nothing  in  men's  mouths  against  hair  of  golden  flame. 
We  shall  see  what  Allah  has  decreed.  Now  tell  me  how 
you  come  here  to  the  host  of  the  Sultan  Karolah;  tell 
me  of  my  Gulnare,  and  of  your  life  in  the  frozen  North." 

Olvir  bowed;  but  he  had  hardly  made  a  beginning 
of  the  tale  of  how  Thorbiorn  Viking  brought  home  his  elf 
bride  from  the  Land  of  the  Asiamen,  when  he  was  inter- 
rupted by  the  sound  of  quick  hoof-beats,  and  a  score  of 
beautiful  horses,  wine-red  in  color,  came  crowding  around 
the  front  of  the  tent.  As  Olvir  stopped  short  with  a  cry 
of  delight,  Al  Arabi  smiled  and  lifted  his  hand.  A  mare 
at  once  pushed  from  among  her  companions  and  advanced 
quietly  into  the  tent,  the  tip  of  her  flowing  tail  brushing 
the  costly  rugs,  upon  which  she  planted  her  small  hoofs 
with  the  daintiness  of  a  woman.  Al  Arabi  held  out  for  her 
a  stoned  date,  and  as  she  nibbled  at  it  he  stroked  her  bony 
cheek. 

"  So,  Zora,"  he  said,  "  you  must  have  your  sweet- 
meats, like  all  women.  But  I  do  not  begrudge  them  to 

86 

\?rn^^J^^ 
>t^ 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

my  swift  one.  You  look  at  the  guest,  daughter  of  Rustem. 
It  is  well.  He  is  not  such  a  one  as  these  Afranj  jinn, 
who  must  get  them  to  battle  or  the  chase  on  ox-like 
steeds.  No,  Wind-racer;  this  is  one  with  whom  you 
could  course  the  gazelle  from  dawn  even  to  sunset.  Look 
closely  at  the  young  man,  for  he  is  of  the  Household, — 
he  is  the  Heir." 

Zora  stretched  out  her  graceful  neck  to  nuzzle  the 
Heir's  strange  attire  with  the  tip  of  her  projecting  lip. 
The  attention  was  appreciated  at  its  full  value.  Never 
before  had  Olvir  seen  the  like  of  this  beautiful  mare,  and 
her  friendliness  greatly  pleased  him.  He  was  stroking 
the  broad  forehead  between  her  soft  black  eyes  when  the 
younger  Saracen  envoy  entered  the  tent. 

Kasim  did  not  wait  to  examine  the  guest,  but  per- 
ceiving at  the  first  glance  that  the  stranger's  dress  was 
not  of  Saracen  fashion,  he  exclaimed  petulantly :  "  How 
now,  father  of  my  bride;  has  your  dowar  become  a 
lounging-place  for  kaffirs?  I  did  not  look  to  find  you 
breaking  bread  with  an  Afranj  dog." 

Great  was  the  vali's  surprise  when  the  despised  kaffir 
answered  him  in  his  own  tongue :  "  Friend,  what  says  the 
wise  king,  the  emir's  namesake  ?  —  *  Even  a  fool,  when  he 
holdeth  his  peace,  is  accounted  wise ;  and  he  that  shutteth 
his  lips  is  esteemed  a  man  of  understanding.' " 

Though  not  a  little  humiliated  by  the  apt  rebuke, 
Kasim  advanced  closer  to  examine  the  guest  with  his 
blinking  gaze.  If  his  thought  was  to  strike  fear  into  the 
heart  of  the  stranger  by  the  fierceness  of  his  look,  he  was 
never  so  mistaken.  Olvir  met  him  with  a  gaze  so  steady 
and  so  full  of  calm  indifference  that  the  Saracen,  to  cover 
the  sudden  confusion  which  fell  upon  him,  shifted  his 
glance  to  the  stranger's  dress. 

The  body  armor  of  the  guest  was  familiar  to  his 

87 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

sight;  for  only  in  its  rich  finish  and  in  the  threefold 
thickness  of  its  mesh  did  it  differ  from  his  own.  Yet  it 
had  an  odd  appearance,  worn  with  the  cross-thonged 
stockings,  close  breeches,  and  fur-trimmed  cloak  of  the 
Norse  dress.  And,  notwithstanding  the  ruddy  yel- 
low hair  of  the  son  of  Gulnare,  never  had  Kasim  Ibn 
Yusuf  seen  a  warrior  who  in  figure,  face,  and  bearing 
so  nearly  approached  the  Arab  ideal  of  princeliness  and 
beauty. 

"  May  it  please  the  father  of  my  sultana  to  make 
known  the  guest  who  sits  at  meat  with  him,"  he  said. 

Al  Arabi  rose,  and  Olvir  imitated  the  movement. 
When  both  were  standing,  the  sheik  laid  his  hand  on 
Olvir's  shoulder,  and  answered  the  vali :  "  You  have 
heard  of  El  Jinni,  Ibn  Yusuf,  —  that  Samson  of  the  Far 
North  —  " 

"  I  have  heard  of  El  Jinni,"  retorted  Kasim.  "  So  this 
is  his  son.  Had  another  than  yourself  told  me  that  you 
would  hold  friendship  with  any  kin  of  the  robber  who 
despoiled  your  city  and  bore  off  your  daughter,  I  should 
name  the  teller  a  liar." 

"  Do  not  marvel,  Ibn  Yusuf.  This  is  not  the  son  of 
El  Jinni,  but  the  son  of  that  daughter,  —  my  Gulnare. 
Rejoice  with  me,  Kasim!  The  lost  is  found!  Come 
forward  and  greet  your  kinsman." 

At  the  appeal,  which  was  half  a  command,  Kasim 
advanced  and  embraced  Olvir,  muttering  formal  words  of 
pleasure.  His  protestations  of  friendship  did  not,  how- 
ever, deceive  the  young  Northman.  He  read  the  hostility 
in  the  Arab's  eyes,  and  met  the  feigned  warmth  of  his 
greeting  with  cold  disdain. 

"  You  bear  a  sword  of  price,  kinsman,"  remarked  the 
vali,  as  the  glow  of  the  great  ruby  on  Al-hatif's  hilt  caught 
his  eye. 

88 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  It  is  a  sword  beyond  price,"  answered  Olvir.  "  The 
Prophet  himself  once  bore  it.  When  your  wife's  father 
aided  Khalif  Abdullah  to  overthrow  the  House  of  Omar, 
the  khalif  did  more  than  make  him  Emir  of  Kars,  —  he 
gave  to  him  Al-hatif." 

"Al-hatif!"  cried  Kasim;  "the  Prophet's  sword  in 
the  hand  of  an  unbeliever !  " 

"  I  believe  in  the  One  God,"  replied  Olvir.  "  There 
is  good  in  all  faiths.  I  accept  the  Truth  wherever  I  find 
it;  the  error  I  reject." 

The  vali  threw  out  his  hands  in  pious  horror. 

"La  I'lana  ilia  Allah;  Mohammed  resoul  Allah!" 
he  cried.  "  Within  Islam  alone  is  salvation." 

"  So  say  the  Jews ;  so  say  the  Christians ;  and  so 
say  the  Magians,  —  each  for  his  own  creed,"  retorted 
Olvir. 

Kasim  frowned  and  shook  his  fist  at  the  unbeliever, 
in  sudden  heat. 

"What  saying's  this?"  he  exclaimed.  "Who  dares 
name  the  creeds  of  kaffir  dogs  in  the  same  breath  with  the 
true  faith?  Who  —  " 

"  Enough,  vali !  "  commanded  Al  Arabi.  "  There  shall 
be  no  railing  and  contention  in  my  House.  The  son  of 
Gulnare  does  not  come  to  bring  strife,  but  to  strengthen 
our  hands  in  the  struggle  against  Abd-er-Rahman.  You 
saw  his  warriors  in  the  strange  ships  which  rowed  past 
before  our  dowar.  When  Karolah  comes  south,  with  him 
will  march  your  kinsman  and  his  steel-clad  warriors,  to 
fight  beneath  our  banners.  And  now,  that  the  son  of 
Gulnare  may  not  find  the  way  toilsome,  I  give  him  the 
choicest  of  my  desert-fliers.  The  daughter  of  Rustem  is 
fitting  gift  to  the  son  of  Gulnare." 

"Zora!"  stammered  Kasim,  —  "  Zora !" 

"I  have  spoken.  Lead  the  herd  away,  and  make 
________  89 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

ready  full  equipment,  that  the  fleet  one  may  come  to  her 
master  with  adornment  worthy  of  her  lineage." 

With  his  hand  clutched  convulsively  in  Zora's  flowing 
mane,  Kasim  led  her  from  the  tent  without  a  word. 

Al  Arabi  watched  his  departure  with  a  frown  of  dis^ 
pleasure,  his  lean  hand  tugging  at  his  beard. 

"  He  goes  in  anger,"  he  muttered. 

"  I  fear  I  bring  you  sorrow,  father,"  said  Olvir.  "  A 
house  divided  against  itself  cannot  stand." 

"  The  Son  of  Mary  spoke  truth.  Yet  be  at  peace.  It 
is  not  you  who  bring  contention  to  my  House.  Kasim 
Ibn  Yusuf  is  a  man  of  unruly  spirit.  He  has  long  been 
a  thorn  in  my  flesh.  Your  coming  has  rejoiced  my  soul." 

"  Allah  grant  it  may  never  be  otherwise !  "  responded 
Olvir. 

"Amtn — amtn!"  said  Al  Arabi;  and  motioning  Olvir 
to  resume  his  seat,  he  added :  "  Now,  my  son,  tell  me  fully 
of  your  mother  and  of  your  fearful  uprearing  by  El  Jinni 
in  the  tomb." 


90 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Unwound  from  arm  winding-rings 
Of  Kaiser  gold  wrought  — 

LAY  OF   HILDEBRAND. 

The  seed  of  gold 

Sowed  the  swan-bright  woman, 

Rings  of  red-gold. 

SONG  OF  ATLI. 

ORNING  put  an  end  to  Sheik 
Suleyman's  hospitality.    Shortly 
after   sunrise   his   retainers   be- 
^f     ;  ^^^  gan    striking   the    tents    of   the 

m  M  dowar,    in    preparation    for   the 

:%       |       m  journey  back  across  the  Pyre- 

^^        J  nees.    To  ferry  the  envoys  over 

^""  ""*  the     Garonne,     Olvir     manned 

one  of  his  longships,  and  made 
ready  to  embark  with  his  new- 

md  kinsmen.  ~  Hi?*purpose  was  to  accompany  the 
sheik  half  a  day  on  the  march,  as  a  mark  of  the  respect 
and  affection  due  his  mother's  father.  He  also  had  in 
view  the  return  to  the  Garonne,  when,  unhampered  by 
companions,  he  could  test  the  speed  of  the  beautiful  red 
mare. 

At  the  last  moment,  however,  as  Zora  was  being  led 
aboard  ship,  young  Gerold  of  Busson  came  galloping  down 
the  bank,  and  hailed  the  Norse  chief  loudly :  "  Hold,  Lord 
Olvir !  The  king  bids  you  to  his  presence." 

Olvir  turned,  frowning,  to  the  sheik,  who  stood  with 
Kasim  in  the  vessel's  stern. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Eblis !  "  he  exclaimed  in  Arabic.  "  Am  I  a  hound, 
to  leap  to  another's  bidding?  Karolah  sends  command 
for  my  presence.  Let  him  command;  I  go  with  you." 

"  Allah  forbid !  "  rejoined  Al  Arabi.  "  Have  you  not 
chosen  the  service  of  the  Afranj  sultan?  Why,  then, 
should  he  not  command?  Bend  to  his  wish.  It  may  be 
that  he  sends  to  honor  you." 

"  Yours  are  words  of  wisdom,  father  of  my  mother. 
My  freedom  is  in  the  hands  of  my  lord.  Farewell,  there- 
fore,—  and  peace  be  with  you  till  we  meet  in  Andalus," 
replied  Olvir,  and  he  beckoned  the  groom  who  held  Zora 
to  bring  the  mare  to  him. 

Al  Arabi  leaned  over  the  ship's  side  and  extended  his 
arms  in  a  yearning  gesture. 

"  My  peace  with  you,  son  of  Gulnare !  I  shall  suffer 
many  nights  of  longing  before  I  see  your  face  on  the 
Ebro's  bank." 

"  The  days  of  our  meeting  will  blot  out  the  memory 
of  the  parting,"  answered  Olvir;  and  a  smile  drove  the 
lingering  frown  from  his  brow.  Still  smiling,  he  glanced 
aside  at  Kasim,  with  a  pleasant  word  of  parting  on  his 
lips;  but  neither  look  nor  word  won  a  responsive  smile 
from  the  impassive  face  of  the  younger  Saracen. 

A  moment  later,  as  the  ship's  bows  swung  clear  of  the 
bank,  Count  Gerold  rode  down  beside  Olvir  and  cried  out 
eagerly :  "  Tell  me,  hero,  is  not  that  your  rune-friend 
Liutrad  at  the  helm?  " 

"  Ay." 

"  Then  may  he  not  come  with  us?  Our  lord  king  will 
be  glad  to  see  him  also." 

Olvir  made  a  sign  to  the  young  giant,  who  calmly 
gave  the  tiller  into  Floki's  hand,  and  turned  to  pick  up  his 
ponderous  axe. 

"The  hero  should  move  more  briskly  if  he  would 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

come  ashore  dry  shod,"  remarked  Gerold,  and  he  pointed 
to  the  quickly  widening  space  between  the  bank  and  the 
longship's  stern. 

"  The  stag  leaps  high.  I  alone  can  out  spring  the  son 
of  Erling.  Watch !" 

As  Olvir  spoke,  Liutrad  bounded  up  on  the  high  stern- 
piece  of  the  ship.  For  an  instant  he  stood  poised  on  the 
gilded  dragon-tail,  gathering  force  for  the  wide  leap ;  then 
he  came  flying  above  the  water,  clear  to  the  side  of  his 
earl. 

"Well  done,  Dane!"  exclaimed  Gerold;  and  he 
sprang  from  his  horse. 

Liutrad  caught  the  extended  hand  of  the  queen's 
brother  in  his  powerful  grip,  and  met  his  smile  with  a 
look  no  less  friendly.  Though  the  Northman  overtopped 
the  Swabian  by  a  head,  the  two  were  so  well  matched  in 
years  and  nature  that  their  hearts  wanned  in  friendship 
on  the  spot. 

For  a  while,  as  the  boyish  warriors  exchanged  pledges 
of  friendship,  Olvir  watched  the  white-bearded  figure  in 
the  stern  of  the  receding  ship.  At  last,  with  a  gesture  of 
farewell,  he  turned  and  looked  at  the  new-made  friends. 
His  face  lighted  at  sight  of  their  smiles,  and  with  a  quick 
movement  he  unwound  one  of  the  double  spirals  of  gold 
coiled  about  his  arm.  Another  twist  in  his  sinewy  fingers 
broke  the  spiral  into  two  equal  parts.  Handing  one  to 
each  of  the  young  men,  he  explained  to  the  Swabian :  "  In 
the  North  a  leader  who  is  not  close-fisted  is  called  the 
'  ring-breaker/  because  he  gives  the  red  gold  of  his  rings 
to  his  true  friends  and  followers.  Here,  then,  I  give  you 
each  a  ring  to  wear,  as  a  token  of  the  bond  between  you." 

Both  sought  to  thank  him;  but  he  cut  short  their 
words  with  a  gesture.  His  face  had  darkened  as  though 
a  shadow  had  fallen  across  it. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  May  the  Norns  weave  you  good  luck !  "  he  muttered. 
"  Not  all  friends  lack  gall  in  their  mead." 

"  Surely  there  shall  be  none  in  the  sweet  mead  that 
I  '11  drink  with  Liutrad  the  loreful !  "  replied  Gerold.  "  But 
come  now.  Our  lord  king  is  eager  to  talk  with  such  wise 
heroes.  It  is  wonderful  that  warriors  should  be  so  learned. 
Few  even  among  monks  and  priests  can  mark  fair  letters. 
Were  you  and  Lord  Olvir  baptized,  his  Majesty  would 
make  bishops  of  you  both." 

"  As  it  is,"  rejoined  Olvir,  ironically,  "  we  are  be- 
nighted heathen,  —  sons  of  the  fiend-god  Thor.  And  now, 
as  you  well  say,  we  had  best  be  moving  if  we  would  not 
keep  the  great  king  waiting." 

"  I  will  walk  to  the  villa  beside  my  Frank  friend," 
remarked  Liutrad,  as  Olvir  placed  a  hand  on  Zora's 
withers  and  vaulted  lightly  into  the  saddle.  But  Gerold 
would  not  agree. 

"  Yonder  is  the  camp  of  one  who  owes  me  favor,"  he 
said.  "  I  will  soon  have  a  horse  for  you." 

With  Liutrad  mounted,  the  three  quickly  covered  the 
ride  to  Casseneuil.  Grooms  of  the  king's  stables  took 
charge  of  the  horses  in  the  courtyard  of  the  villa,  and 
Gerold,  waving  aside  the  Grand  Doorward,  himself 
ushered  his  companions  to  the  royal  apartments. 

Olvir  and  Liutrad,  staring  wonderingly  about  them 
at  the  Roman  architecture  and  Gallo-Roman  decorations 
of  the  villa,  followed  Gerold  in  half-awed  silence  through 
the  flower-perfumed  courts  and  the  marble-tessellated 
passages.  At  each  turn  they  looked  to  find  themselves  on 
the  threshold  of  some  grand  rush-strewn  hall,  crowded 
with  war-counts  and  the  Frank  king's  councillors.  When, 
however,  Gerold  at  last  led  them  through  a  curtained 
archway,  a  glance  at  the  tapestried  chamber  within  showed 
them  their  mistake. 

94 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"The  queen's  bower!"  muttered  Olvir,  and  his 
black  eyes  flashed  their  glance  along  the  line  of  busily 
sewing  maidens  on  the  right  to  Rothada,  playing  with 
her  sister  and  brothers  at  the  edge  of  the  dais  that  ex- 
tended across  the  farther  end  of  the  chamber.  Upon  the 
dais  sat  Hildegarde  herself,  side  by  side  with  her  royal 
spouse. 

With  all  his  haughty  pride,  Olvir  was  quick  to  realize 
the  honor  paid  him,  stranger  and  outlander  as  he  was, 
by  such  an  introduction  into  the  bosom  of  the  Frank  king's 
family.  When  he  perceived  the  queen's  extended  hand 
beckoning  him  to  approach,  he  advanced  at  once  down 
the  chamber,  without  pausing  to  look  about.  In  his  eager- 
ness he  failed  to  see  Count  Roland  and  Fastrada,  who  had 
drawn  apart  into  one  of  the  recessed  windows  of  the 
bower.  Liutrad,  however,  chancing  to  glance  that  way, 
turned  aside  to  inquire  the  health  of  the  wounded  count; 
and  Fastrada  took  instant  advantage  of  the  interruption 
to  glide  out  beside  Gerold.  If  her  intention  was  to  over- 
take Olvir,  she  was  too  late.  He  was  already  kneeling  at 
the  edge  of  the  dais,  to  kiss  the  queen's  hand. 

As  the  Northman's  knee  touched  the  dais  step,  the 
great  Frank  in  the  oaken  seat  struck  his  thigh,  and  cried 
loudly :  "  By  my  sweet  dame's  spindle !  hereafter  I  swear 
by  that  token!  The  Dane  bows  neither  to  sword  nor 
crown,  yet  stoops  low  to  a  woman's  hand." 

Olvir  stood  erect  and  looked  straight  into  the  gracious 
face  of  the  queen.  Hair  of  golden  floss,  a  skin  of  dazzling 
fairness,  —  neither  was  new  to  him;  but  the  mild  blue 
eyes  beamed  with  spiritual  light  such  as  was  seldom  seen 
even  in  the  lands  of  Christendom.  The  daughter  of 
Childebrand,  despite  her  seven  years  of  wedlock,  was  a 
dame  very  lovely  to  the  eye,  no  less  in  expression  than 
in  feature. 

95 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Olvir  smiled  at  her  as  he  would  have  smiled  at 
Rothada,  and,  without  turning,  he  answered  the  king 
steadily :  "  I  come  of  high  blood,  lord  king ;  also,  I  am  a 
free  Northman,  —  I  bow  to  no  man.  But  the  greatest 
of  all  may  well  bow  to  holiness.  We  have  a  saying  in 
the  North,  *  A  good  woman  is  near  the  gods/  " 

"  That  is  a  wise  saw,  however  heathenish.  But  give 
heed  to  our  queen;  she  has  something  to  say  to  you." 

"  I  would  give  thanks  for  the  safe  bringing  of  this 
little  maiden,"  remarked  Hildegarde.  "  Only  a  warrior 
of  noblest  heart  could  have  done  such  a  deed." 

Olvir  shook  his  head  smilingly. 

"  I  freed  the  Dane's  thralls  for  my  own  pleasure, 
which  you  now  double,"  he  said. 

"  But  you  shall  also  accept  this  ring,  as  mark  of  our 
gratitude,"  rejoined  the  queen,  and  she  drew  a  bracelet  of 
twisted  gold  wires  from  her  white  wrist.  When  she  held 
out  the  ornament,  Olvir,  instead  of  grasping  it,  thrust  his 
left  hand  through  the  opening. 

"How!  is  the  ring  on?"  exclaimed  Karl,  in  surprise. 
"The  lad  has  no  need  to  talk  of  high  birth,  —  a  warrior 
with  hands  womanly  slender !  " 

"  Yet  fit  to  grasp  spear  or  sword,"  added  Hildegarde, 
gazing  curiously  at  the  young  sea-king's  hard  palms  and 
sinewy  wrists. 

"  Before  I  could  walk  I  played  with  weapons,"  replied 
Olvir,  and  he  glanced  aside  at  the  royal  children.  The 
king  looked  also,  and  at  once  beckoned  to  the  little  group. 
The  sturdy  boy  Karl  sprang  forward  at  the  signal,  fol- 
lowed by  his  imperious  little  sister  Rotrude  and  the  tod- 
dling Carloman.  After  the  children  of  Hildegarde  came 
their  unfortunate  half-brother,  the  crook-backed  Pepin. 
All  were  soon  perched  upon  the  massive  knees  of 
majesty. 

96 


B3EI 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


There  was  space  left  for  Rothada  at  her  father's  side  ; 
but  she  had  lingered  to  greet  Olvir.  She  came  to  him,  her 
face  beaming  with  delight  and  gay  welcome,  which  yet 
could  not  altogether  hide  the  shyness  of  budding  maiden- 
hood. Olvir  did  not  wait  for  her  faltering  speech.  He 
caught  her  hands  in  his  and  bent  to  kiss  her  white  forehead. 

"  Health  to  you,  maiden  !  "  he  said.  "  My  sea-wolves 
send  greeting  to  their  little  seeress.  Already  they  howl 
for  a  glimpse  of  her  bright  face." 

"  I  pray  they  may  not  howl  so  loud  as  when  Liutrad, 
yonder,  and  the  lofty  Floki  upraised  us  on  the  shield.  My 
heart  turned  to  water  for  fear  of  their  roaring,"  replied 
Rothada  ;  and  even  the  awe  of  her  father's  presence  could 
not  restrain  a  burst  of  merry  laughter  at  the  memory. 

Olvir  smiled  down  into  the  girl's  sparkling  eyes. 

"  Ay,  king's  daughter,"  he  said  ;  "  but  you  soon  lost 
your  dread  of  the  grim  hailers.  Did  you  not  cry  back 
greeting  to  them?  Small  wonder  they  hailed  the  little 
valkyrie  who  stood  so  boldly  on  the  shield  with  their 
earl;  small  wonder  they  choose  for  vala  the  wise  little 
leech-maid  who  went  among  the  stricken  warriors  with 
soft  words  and  healing  balm." 

Karl  stared  at  his  daughter  in  wonder. 

"  Do  you  jest,  Count  Olvir?  "  he  demanded.  "  This 
is  a  part  of  the  tale  I  had  not  yet  heard.  Surely,  for  a 
nun-child  —  " 

"  She  was  no  nun-child,  then,  but  the  child  of  the 
great  Frank  king.  Already  she  had  turned  away  Floki 
from  the  burning  of  the  thralls.  Then  she  stood  with  me 
on  the  swaying  shield.  But  not  until  we  crossed  the 
river  bar  and  held  war-council  on  the  Garonne  bank  did 
the  crews  choose  her  for  their  vala,  —  their  little  seeress- 
maiden.  The  stricken  Danes  whom  she  had  nursed  aboard 
my  Raven  set  her  in  the  midst  of  the  gathering,  and  the 

7  97 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

king's  daughter  won  all  alike  by  her  sweet  wisdom  and 
lore.  She  holds  the  fierce  hearts  of  my  sea-wolves  by  a 
bond  subtle  and  strong  as  the  fetter  of  the  Fenris-wolf. 
We  have  sworn  to  carve  the  blood-eagle  on  the  back  of 
whoever  does  her  harm." 

"  The  Holy  Mother  bless  you ! "  cried  Hildegarde ; 
and  the  king,  flushing  with  pleasure,  added  heartily, 
"  Amen  to  the  good  wish !  You  have  well  earned  it,  my 
bright  Dane,  —  you  and  all  your  followers,  though  you 
be  twice  over  heathen.  Before  sunset  the  grim  warriors 
shall  see  the  maiden  in  their  midst.  Now  come  to  my 
side,  child,  and  let  a  seat  be  brought  for  our  guests." 


CHAPTER  IX 

.As  fair  as  them  seest 
Brides  on  the  bench  abiding. 
Let  not  love's  silver 
Rule  over  thy  dreams ; 
Draw  no  woman  to  kind  kisses. 

LAY  OF  SIGRDRIFA. 

Rothada  sprang  up  the  step  of 
the  dais  to  nestle  close  to  her 
father,  Gerold  drew  out  a  bench 
from  the  nearest  wall.  On  this 
Olvir  seated  himself,  and  the 
king  beckoned  to  Liutrad  and 
Roland. 

"  Come  forward,  heroes,"  he 
lid;   "and  you,  Gerold." 

The  quick  advance  of  her 

companions  left  Fastrada  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  bower. 
She  hesitated  and  looked  appealingly  to  the  king.  Karl 
had  bent  over  the  children  clasped  in  his  great  arms;  but 
Hildegarde  saw  the  girl's  look,  and  signed  to  her  to  take 
the  place  on  the  bench  beside  Roland. 

Crimson  with  shamefaced  delight,  the  girl  glided  for- 
ward. Near  the  bench,  however,  she  began  to  falter, 
seemingly  overcome  by  diffidence.  A  very  audible  titter- 
ing from  the  other  bower-maidens  sent  her  edging  around 
the  end  of  the  bench  farthest  from  Roland.  Then  the 
king,  drawn  by  the  note  of  merriment,  looked  up  and 
fixed  his  gaze  upon  her.  Was  it  to  be  wondered  that, 
between  her  diffidence  and  the  awe  of  the  royal  presence, 

99 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

the  girl  shrank  back  to  the  bench  in  such  confusion  as 
to  thrust  herself  between  Liutrad  Erlingson  and  his  lord? 

Karl  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh. 

"Holy  Mother!"  he  exclaimed,  "it  is  our  herald 
maiden.  She  plays  her  own  part  more  ill  than  another's. 
Did  you  not  tell  me,  sweetheart,  that  Roland  —  ay, 
it  was  Roland!  We  will  mend  matters  if  this  young 
Dane  bear  will  barter  seats  on  the  bench  with  a  stricken 
hero." 

Liutrad  sprang  up  at  the  word.  But  Count  Roland 
sat  firmly  in  his  place. 

"The  maiden  has  good  eyesight,  and  there  is  space 
beside  me,"  he  said. 

A  second  and  louder  titter  ran  down  the  row  of 
bower-maidens,  and  even  Hildegarde  could  not  suppress 
a  smile.  Fastrada  only  blushed  the  more,  and  sat  with 
downcast  eyes,  not  even  venturing  a  glance  at  the 
young  sea-king  beside  her.  Her  drooping  shoulder 
pressed  lightly  against  the  gold  spirals  on  the  Norse 
hero's  mailed  arm.  She  sat  very  quiet. 

Again  Karl  laughed,  this  time  at  the  frowning  face 
of  his  nephew. 

"  Ha,  kinsman,"  he  admonished  in  a  jesting  tone, 
"the  maiden  seems  coy.  Your  wooing  has  been  over- 
hearty." 

"  That  could  not  be,  dear  lord,  if  the  maiden  loves 
him,"  observed  Hildegarde,  softly. 

"Which  is  to  say  —  " 

"Nothing,  sire,  nothing!"  broke  in  Roland.  "We 
were  merely  talking  of  my  sword-brother." 

"  A  choice  subject,"  rejoined  Karl ;  "  yet  had  I  worn 
the  buskins  of  Count  Roland,  I  should  have  talked  more 
of  the  maiden  herself,  and  of  Count  Roland's  thoughts  of 
her." 

100 


••JSr? 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Roland's  frown  deepened,  and  Fastrada's  blushing 
face  bent  still  farther  forward.  Olvir  sat  rigidly  erect, 
striving  to  resist  his  desire  to  gaze  down  on  the  drooping 
maiden.  He  had  caught  one  glimpse  of  her  face  as  she 
stood  between  him  and  the  king,  —  a  glimpse  that  of  itself 
was  enough  to  set  his  pulses  wildly  throbbing;  and  now 
there  was  added  to  it  the  warmth  and  perfume  of  her 
person  close  against  his  side.  The  temptation  was  almost 
greater  than  he  could  bear.  Only  by  the  strongest 
effort  could  he  hold  in  mind  his  duty  to  his  foster-brother. 
Of  all  present,  he  perhaps  felt  most  keenly  the  con- 
straint of  the  silence  which  followed  the  king's  well-meant 
raillery. 

The  pause  was  broken  by  Hildegarde,  with  the  kindly 
thought  of  diverting  attention  from  the  lovers. 

"  Dear  lord,  you  told  me  that  Count  Olvir  was  the 
foster-son  of  Otkar  the  Dane.  Have  I  not  also  heard  you 
say  that  Lord  Otkar  was  the  craftiest  as  well  as  the 
strongest  of  warriors?  " 

"  He  was  a  foe  worthy  a  king,"  answered  Karl. 
"  Would  that  the  hero  were  now  beside  my  throne,  with 
his  grey  wit  and  mighty  axe!  Yet  I  should  not  com- 
plain. Here  is  one  whom  he  has  reared  in  all  his  lore 
and  wisdom." 

"The  lore,  but  not  the  wisdom,  lord  king,"  replied 
Olvir.  "He  could  give  me  the  one;  the  other  no  man 
may  impart/' 

"  True ;  and  the  saying  tells  me  you  have  found 
wisdom  for  yourself.  Beware,  for  now  I  shall  put  your 
wit  to  the  test.  I  would  ask  your  counsel  on  this  Saracen 
war.  All  my  other  borders  are  pacified.  Even  the  Saxon 
Mark  —  " 

"  Count  nothing  on  the  Saxons,  lord  king,"  inter- 
rupted Olvir. 

101 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  How !  already  a  difference  from  my  councillors?  Not 
one  in  my  hall  but  will  tell  you  those  wolves  are  at  last 
tamed.  I  have  planted  their  wild  land  with  fortresses  and 
chapels." 

"  Your  church  tithes  and  the  preaching  of  your  priests 
will  soon  stir  the  sons  of  Odin  to  renewed  anger.  I  speak 
words  from  Otkar's  lips.  There  will  be  blood  on  priestly 
robes.  Your  burgs  and  your  chapels  will  see  the  torch. 
Look  for  no  sure  peace  in  Saxon  Land  so  long  as  Witti- 
kind  the  Westphalian  bears  his  head  upon  his  shoulders." 

"  He  dwells  with  Sigfrid  the  Dane,  as  you  yourself 
bring  word."  > 

"  Scant  cheer !  When  he  comes  again,  it  will  be  with 
a  following  of  Dane  warriors.  If  he  is  content  to  dwell 
always  with  the  Nordmannian  king,  why  should  he  send 
the  murderer  Hroar  to  bear  off  this  little  maiden  by  your 
knee? " 

The  king  laid  his  hand  on  Rothada's  head,  and  his  face 
grew  stern  with  a  look  of  majesty  and  power  before  which 
even  Olvir  sat  half  awed. 

"  Dane  and  Saxon,  —  sea-wolf  and  forest-wolf,  —  let 
the  wild  hordes  come!  They  shall  find  other  than  lambs 
to  greet  them!" 

"  Yet  now  you  'd  lay  open  the  Mark  to  them,  lord 
king,"  persisted  Olvir.  "  You  plan  to  lead  your  host  still 
farther  from  the  Rhineland." 

"  By  Thor,  Olvir,"  broke  in  Liutrad,  with  Norse  free- 
dom, "why  seek  to  mar  such  fair  chance  of  sword-play? 
The  more  of  war,  the  merrier  for  heroes.  And  would  you 
turn  aid  from  your  Saracen  kin?  " 

"Saracen  kin;  how's  that,  my  Norse  hawk?  Is  the 
boy  mad?" 

"No,  lord  king,"  replied  Olvir;  "my  face  should  tell 
otherwise.  Because  of  it,  men  in  the  North  call  me  Elfkin ; 

102 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

but  this  is  the  truth, — in  my  mother's  veins  Greek  and  Arab 
blood  were  mingled.  Her  father,  Sheik  Suleyman,  is  known 
to  you  as  Al  Arabi,  —  leader  of  the  Saracen  envoys." 

"Al  Arabi!" 

"  One-time  Emir  of  Armenia.  The  wife  who  bore 
him  my  mother  was  of  kin  to  the  Emperor  Leo,  whom  men 
call  the  Isaurian." 

"  By  my  crown!  no  longer  do  I  wonder  at  your  un- 
bending knee!  I  have  done  well  to  honor  you.  What  is 
your  knowledge  of  the  Saracen  folk?  " 

"As  to  those  in  the  Eastland,  I  learned  much  from 
Otkar  and  from  Arabic  writings ;  but  of  these  in  Andalus, 
I  know  only  what  came  to  me  last  night  from  the  lips  of 
my  mother's  father." 

"  And  what  did  he  say  of  Abd-er-Rahman?  The  Sar- 
acen king  has  the  name  of  a  great  warrior." 

"True,  lord  king;  yet  the  Beni  Al  Abbas  cherish 
undying  hatred  against  the  Omyyad." 

"  These  Saracen  pagans  are  loath  to  take  oath ;  but  the 
envoys  swore  to  the  fealty  of  their  faction.  I  count  no  less 
on  aid  from  the  Christian  folk  in  that  land." 

"And  Duke  Lupus,  your  Majesty,"  added  Roland, 
with  a  sudden  show  of  interest.  "  He  brings  us  safe 
passage  of  the  Pyrenees." 

"  I  have  heard  Otkar  speak  of  the  Vascons,"  rejoined 
Olvir,  dryly.  "  It  is  said  they  do  not  love  outlanders.  As 
to  this  duke,  is  he  not  of  Merwing  blood?  " 

"  True,  —  and  therefore  lacks  boldness  to  break  his 
allegiance,"  answered  Karl. 

Olvir's  lip  curled  in  a  slow  smile. 

"  A  fox  will  snap  in  his  own  den,  and,  at  the  best,  the 
mountain-cats  are  hard  to  hold.  You  may  look  for  aid  to 
the  Beni  Al  Abbas ;  but  count  neither  on  Christian  Vascon 
nor  Christian  Goth." 

.  103 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


w**r 

e 


"What!  do  you  hold  that  the  Christian  folk  would 
choose  their  pagan  oppressors  before  a  ruler  of  their  own 
faith?  Our  Holy  Father  Hadrian  numbers  them  among 
the  truest  of  Christians." 

"And  yet,  lord  king,  the  Moslem  yoke  is  lighter  on 
their  necks  than  is  your  own  upon  the  folk  of  Aquitania." 

At  the  bold  assertion,  Karl's  heavy  brows  met  in  a 
frown,  and  an  angry  light  shone  from  his  grey  eyes. 

"  My  yoke,  —  my  yoke !  "  he  repeated  slowly.  "  By 
my  sword,  young  Dane,  you  -are  no  court-man.  Otkar 
himself  would  scarce  have  ventured  so  bitter  a  jeer." 

"Jeer!  The  king  asked  my  counsel,  and  I  gave  it. 
I  believe  what  I  spoke ;  it  came  to  me  from  Otkar.  Why, 
then,  should  I  not  speak  it?  " 

"  Why  not?  "  rejoined  Karl;  and  he  burst  into  hearty 
laughter.  Then,  falling  grave  again,  he  nodded,  and  called 
out  approvingly,  "  Here,  in  truth,  is  a  king's  son ! 
Hearken,  my  Dane  hawk;  though  I  have  bold  counts  as 
well  as  sleek  flatterers,  my  ears  are  not  used  to  such  biting 
truths.  It  shall  be  otherwise  hereafter.  I  will  not  will- 
ingly part  with  so  straight-tongued  a  counsellor." 

The  great  Frank  paused  to  pat  the  heads  of  the  three 
boys  astride  his  knees. 

"  May  these  bairns  prove  as  bold,"  he  added.  "  And 
now,  enough  of  such  matters.  I  had  intended,  Olvir,  to 
test  your  learning,  and  that  of  your  ruddy-cheeked  fol- 
lower ;  but  that  must  now  wait.  After  the  feast  of  Lupus, 
we  will  have  you  both  come  of  an  evening  to  feast  us  on 
your  book-lore." 

"The  feast  of  Lupus!"  sighed  Hildegarde,  pausing 
in  her  needlework.  "  I  wish  that  I  might  attend  it  with 
you,  dear  lord." 

"And  why,  sweetheart?" 

"  Fastrada,  tell  his  Majesty  of  the  feast." 

104 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


Thus  called  upon  by  her  royal  mistress,  Fastrada 
raised  her  eyes  with  a  timid  glance,  which,  as  she  spoke, 
faltered  and  turned  appealingly  aside  toward  Olvir. 

"  Your  Majesty,"  she  murmured,  "  it  is  said  that  the 
Vascon  duke  has  planned  his  feast  after  the  manner  of  the 
old-time  Romans.  Instead  of  seats,  he  will  place  couches 
for  the  guests  to  recline  upon  while  they  dine." 

"What!  —  to  lie  and  sup  together?  The  Vascon 
proves  his  Merwing  blood.  None  other  would  think  of 
mating  bed  and  board.  Yet  he  is  host;  we  must  make  the 
best  of  it." 

"  Surely  no  harm  will  follow,  sire,"  said  Gerold. 
"  Abbot  Fulrad  and  other  churchmen  will  be  there,  and 
thus  to  act  out  an  ancient  custom  will  give  play  for  much 
merriment." 

"  Joy  works  no  harm,"  replied  Karl,  nodding.  "  At  the 
least,  we  shall  give  the  duke's  hospitality  fair  trial.  Mean- 
time, there  is  much  else  to  demand  our  care.  Farewell  for 
the  present,  my  Dane  hawk,  and  you,  young  Samson." 

All  on  the  bench  rose  at  the  word  of  dismissal.  Olvir, 
with  a  bow  to  the  queen  and  a  kindly  glance  for  Rothada, 
turned  quickly  away  after  Gerold  and  Liutrad,  resolutely 
refraining  from  a  single  glance  at  the  lovely  bench-mate 
whom  he  thus  suddenly  deserted. 

In  vain  Fastrada  gazed  longingly  after  the  Northman  ; 
while,  no  less  vainly,  Roland  lingered  for  a  parting  look 
from  the  girl.  Both  were  alike  disappointed. 

As  the  bower-maiden  glided  silently  back  among  her 
companions,  the  wounded  count  followed  Olvir  from  the 
chamber  with  a  heavy  tread. 


105 


CHAPTER  X 


Bids  she  not  to  be  wary? 
For  a  wolf's  hair  I  found. 


Wolf-beset  shall  be  the  way 
If  we  fare  on  this  errand. 

SONG  OF  ATLI. 


VENING  of  the  following  day 
found  Olvir  and  Gerold  return- 
ing to  the  viking  camp  from  a 
successful  hunt.  Zora  had  fully 
justified  the  praises  of  her  giver, 
and  bore  her  rider  into  camp 
without  a  sign  of  fatigue.  But 
the  heavier  Prankish  horse  was 
so  spent  by  the  chase  that  he 
could  hardly  carry  his  rider  to 
Olvir's  tent. 

At  the  sound  of  their  approach  the  tent  was  opened 
from  within,  and  Count  Roland  came  out  to  greet  the 
hunters. 

"Ho,  brother!"  called  Olvir,  as  he  leaped  to  the 
ground.  "  It  is  well ;  you  keep  tryst." 

"Better  than  some,"  replied  Roland.  "Already  we 
should  be  on  our  way  to  the  Vascon's  hall ;  yet  Gerold  is 
as  good  as  horseless." 

"  We  shall  go  more  quickly  by  boat.  Ho,  there,  Floki ! 
man  the  Raven's  barki.  While  we  wait,  brother,  Gerold 
and  I  will  change  chase-gear  for  hall-dress." 

"  Stay ;  first  see  to  this.  A  palace  slave  handed  it  to 
me  for  you.  He  claimed  to  know  nothing  of  the  giver,  but 
said  that  the  matter  was  urgent." 

106 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"A  maiden's  gift,"  ventured  Gerold,  at  sight  of  the 
little  ivory  vial  which  Roland  held  out  to  the  Northman. 

Olvir  took  the  gift  and  examined  it  keenly.  There 
was  yet  ample  light  for  him  to  discern  a  faint  "  F  "  traced 
on  the  cover  of  the  vial.  At  the  discovery  every  nerve  of 
his  body  thrilled  with  sudden  uncontrollable  delight.  But 
he  shook  his  head  at  Gerold's  suggestion,  and  said  almost 
harshly,  "  I  know  of  no  maiden  who  should  so  honor  me." 

"  Look  within,  brother ;  let  us  see  what  is  sent,"  said 
Roland. 

Olvir  at  once  opened  the  little  vessel  and  held  it  up 
to  view.  The  sight  brought  out  a  merry  shout  from 
Gerold. 

"  Saint  Petronella !  "  he  cried ;  "  the  maiden  loves  you, 
hero.  She  has  sent  a  lock  of  hair." 

"  But  a  sparse  tress,  as  suits  a  grey  spinster,"  added 
Roland,  who  had  looked  closer. 

"  Grey  spinster ! "  muttered  Olvir,  and  he  held  out  to 
his  smiling  companions  the  one  grey  bristle  which  had  lain 
coiled  in  the  vial.  "  Here  is  hair,  but  no  woman's,"  he 
added  significantly. 

"  A  wolfs  hair !  "  exclaimed  Roland.    "  But  why  —  " 

"  A  warning !  "  broke  in  Gerold.  "  I  Ve  heard  of  the 
like  in  Saxon  Land;  and  did  not  Gudrun,  in  the  old  lay, 
send  such  to  her  kinsmen?  Am  I  not  right,  hero?  " 

"  Ay ;  come  within,  Roland.  Hroar's  scale  hauberk 
will  hang  well  on  your  shoulders.  You,  Gerold,  shall  go 
borrow  a  mail-serk  from  a  man  your  size.  Bid  Floki  see  to 
it  that  the  boatmen  also  arm  themselves.  None  shall  go  to 
the  feast  naked." 

"  You  fear  an  attack?  "  questioned  Roland  as  Gerold 
darted  away. 

"  There  are  lonely  copses  on  the  way  to  Casseneuil," 
answered  Olvir. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  If  men  lie  in  wait,  they  will  not  look  for  us  in  the 
boat.  We  will  pass  them  by." 

"  And  if  not?  Besides,  it  may  be  that  the  danger  waits 
us  at  the  villa  —  even  in  the  feast  hall.  A  dagger  from 
behind  —  " 

"True;  Lupus  is  a  Merwing.  God  forbid  he  put 
poison  in  our  flagons!" 

"That  we  must  chance.  But  the  good  mail  beneath 
our  jerkins  will  do  no  harm." 

Roland's  response  was  to  unbuckle  the  belt  from 
which  swung  the  heavy  blade  of  Ironbiter.  Olvir  then 
unrolled  Hroar's  scale  hauberk  from  its  fur  wrappings, 
and,  having  adjusted  the  bandages  on  the  Frank's  half- 
healed  wounds,  he  buckled  the  armor  about  the  massive 
body  of  his  friend.  The  count's  silk-embroidered  tunic 
followed,  entirely  covering  the  gilded  steel.  Last  of  all, 
Olvir  replaced  Ironbiter  with  a  lighter  sword.  Roland  yet 
lacked  strength  to  wield  that  great  Norse  blade. 

Olvir's  own  mail  was  on  in  a  trice,  followed  as  quickly 
by  his  gala  jerkin.  Unlike  Roland's  tunic,  however,  the 
jerkin  failed  to  hide  his  armor.  Its  gold  collar  might  have 
passed  as  an  ornament;  but  the  long  sleeves  of  ring-mail 
glinting  beneath  the  cloth  at  the  wearer's  wrists  could  be 
mistaken  by  none. 

"Thor!  what  care  I  for  the  Merwing?"  exclaimed 
Olvir;  and  stripping  off  the  jerkin,  he  belted  Al-hatif  on 
the  shimmering  mail.  As  he  flung  his  gay  cloak  about  his 
shoulders,  he  added  grimly,  "  If  the  Vascon  question  my 
feast-dress,  I  have  my  answer.  More  than  one  tale  did 
Otkar  tell  as  he  lay  dying." 

"  Bear  in  mind,  brother,  the  duke  will  be  our  host ;  so 
ward  your  tongue,"  cautioned  Roland. 

"  Let  him  look  to  his  own,  then,  and  mine  will  wag 
little,"  replied  Olvir.  "Ah,  here  comes  Gerold,  with  a 

108 


good  mail-serk  on  his  back.  On  with  your  hall-dress,  lad. 
We  wait  for  you." 

"  The  boat  also.  I  was  seeking  Liutrad,  to  care  for  my 
horse,"  explained  Gerold,  as  he  drew  on  the  garments 
tossed  him  by  Olvir. 

A  little  later  the  three  friends  were  seated  in  the  stern 
of  the  Raven's  boat,  and  six  mail-clad  vikings  were  rowing 
them  upstream,  through  the  twilight,  with  long,  steady 
strokes.  Floki  himself  pulled  bow-oar. 

For  a  while  Olvir  skirted  the  shore;  then  he  steered 
out  into  midstream. 

"  Ho,  earl !  swing  in  again,"  called  Floki,  sharply. 
"  The  stream  might  well  run  slower." 

"  Also  your  tongue,  Crane !  "  retorted  Olvir.  "  In  this 
dusk  watchers  might  doubt  our  looks ;  but  Thor  smite  me 
if  they  could  doubt  your  croak." 

"  What  of  that?  "  growled  Floki. 

"  Have  you  so  soon  forgot?  "  demanded  Gerold.  "  In 
this  wood  is  the  camp  of  Count  Hardrat,  whom  two  days 
since  your  ring-breaker  flung  on  the  turf." 

"  Liutrad's  red  pig ! "  said  Floki,  contemptuously. 

"  But  even  the  meanest  foe  —  " 

Roland  stopped  short.  An  arrow  had  whistled  past, 
not  a  span  before  his  face. 

"Saint  Michael!  an  attack!"  cried  Gerold.  "Put 
about,  hero.  We'll  land,  and  slay  the  murderers !  " 

"They  shall  hang!  Put  about,  brother!"  shouted 
Roland,  as  a  second  arrow  flew  out  of  the  gloom,  to  shiver 
on  his  shoulder,  and  another  fell  blunted  from  Olvir's  side. 

The  sea-king's  nostrils  quivered,  and  his  black  eyes 
flashed  eagerly,  as,  thrusting  over  the  steer-oar,  he  stooped 
for  the  arrow  at  his  feet.  For  a  moment  he  stood  peering 
at  the  missile  in  the  dim  light,  and  a  fourth  arrow  struck 
quivering  in  the  boat's  upcurved  stern.  Then,  with  a  stifled 

109 


VJ* 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

cry,  he  thrust  back  the  steer-oar  so  forcefully  that  the 
turning  boat  surged  round  again  and  headed  for  the 
opposite  shore. 

"  Ho,  look  to  your  tiller!  "  protested  Roland.  "  You 
sheer  off." 

"  Give  way,  men,"  commanded  Olvir.  "  Who  hungers 
for  venomed  shafts?  " 

"  Venomed?  "  cried  Gerold.' 

"  Look  for  yourselves,"  answered  Olvir,  as  he  handed 
the  arrow  to  Roland.  "  Beware  the  point,  brother." 

"  This  is  no  Frank  shaft,"  said  Roland,  the  instant  he 
felt  the  arrow. 

"  No,"  replied  Olvir,  bitterly ;  "  nor  is  the  steel  glazed 
for  rust  guard.  Otkar  brought  the  like  from  Saracen  Land. 
They  are  more  deadly  than  the  adder." 

"But  who  — " 

"  My  Saracen  kinsman,  the  younger  envoy.  Have  I 
not  won  the  old  sheik's  love  and  taken  Zora  from  him?  " 

"  The  foul  pagan !  "  muttered  Roland.  "  But  we  have 
passed  him.  No  more  arrows  whistle." 

"  And  the  snake  crawls  away  unscathed ! "  spluttered 
Gerold,  boiling  with  righteous  anger. 

But  Olvir  stood  silent.  Not  until  the  boat  swung  in 
beside  the  villa  landing  did  he  speak  a  word,  and  then  only 
a  curt  command :  "  Moor  offshore,  Floki,  and  wait." 

"  A  dreary  watch,"  remarked  Gerold.  "  I  could  send 
wine  —  " 

"Thanks,  lad;  but  we  have  mead  aboard,"  replied 
Floki.  "A  merry  feast  to  you!" 

"  That  is  a  notable  henchman,  brother,"  observed 
Roland. 

Olvir  made  no  reply.    Silent  as  before,  he  followed  his 
companions  to  the  Vascon's  hall.    In  the  light  of  passing 
torches  they  saw  his  face  livid  with  grief  and  anger. 
no 


&QOS 


BDSDE 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

In  the  Roman  portico  Roland  paused  and  laid  a  hand 
on  the  Northman's  shoulder. 

"  Guests  —  even  armed  guests  —  should  come  to  the 
feast  smiling,"  he  said. 

"True;  yet  my  mouth  tastes  of  gall,  —  my  own 
kinsman ! " 

"There  is  that  within  will  sweeten  the  taste,  hero," 
replied  Gerold.  "  Do  not  shame  us  with  your  frown." 

"  Lead  in,  then,"  said  Olvir,  and  he  smothered  down 
the  rage  and  grief  which  distorted  his  face.  Before  the 
three  had  passed  the  threshold  of  the  banquet-chamber,  the 
Northman's  look,  though  stern,  no  longer  showed  a  trace 
of  passion. 


in 


55 


CHAPTER  XI 


A  fair  may  know  I, 
Fair  of  all  the  fairest, 


Girt  about  with  gold, 
Good  for  thy  getting. 

LAY  OF  REGIN. 


:E    feast 
when   the 


was  already  begun 
doorward  came  for- 
ward to  show  the  belated  guests 
to  their  places.  They  followed 
him,  gazing  about  with  keenest 
curiosity.  The  apartment  was 
one  of  ordinary  size,  hung  with 
tapestries  of  a  fashion  familiar 
even  to  the  Northman,  —  purple 
and  blue  silks,  embroidered  in 
gold  and  brilliant  colors  with  peacocks  and  lions,  griffins 
and  unicorns.  But,  notwithstanding  what  they  had  heard 
from  Fastrada  in  the  queen's  bower,  all  three,  as  they  went 
forward,  stared  half  bewildered  at  the  sight  of  the  guests 
on  the  pillowed  couches. 

The  table,  shaped  like  a  horseshoe  greatly  elongated, 
gave  room  for  thirty  guests.  It  was  a  gay  company, — 
stately  dames  and  merry-faced  bower-maidens,  high  court 
officials,  war-counts,  and  pompous  bishops,  all  alike  gor- 
geous with  silks  and  jewels. 

The  king  himself  reclined  on  a  raised  couch  at  the 
head  of  the  board,  with  Duke  Lupus  at  his  right.  On  his 
left  was  the  genial  white-haired  Abbot  Fulrad;  next  to 
whom  a  high  court-dame  sat  in  a  chair,  severely  erect,  her 
eyes  fixed  watchfully  upon  the  bower-maidens.  Two 

.  112 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

places  below  the  old  dame  Roland's  eager  gaze  instantly 
singled  out  Fastrada. 

One  couch  above  and  two  below  the  maiden  were 
vacant ;  and  when  the  doorward  waved  Gerold  and  Roland 
to  the  latter,  the  Count  of  the  Breton  Mark  flung  himself 
down  beside  Fastrada,  without  a  thought  as  to  why  the 
Vascon  should  have  arranged  such  an  opportunity  for  his 
most  earnest  rival.  Gerold,  little  less  hasty,  took  the 
second  place  and  fell  into  gay  chatter  with  the  laughing 
bower-maiden  on  his  left. 

Olvir,  however,  was  not  to  be  diverted  from  his 
sombre  mood  either  by  love  or  by  merriment.  He  ad- 
vanced to  his  place  above  Fastrada  with  no  sign  of  surprise 
at  the  high  honor  rendered  him  by  its  nearness  to  the  head 
of  the  board.  Heedless  of  the  maiden,  heedless  even  of  the 
king,  he  flung  back  his  cloak  and  stood  with  the  light  shim- 
mering on  his  bared  mail,  his  piercing  gaze  fixed  upon 
Duke  Lupus. 

Almost  instantly  the  laughter  of  the  guests  died  away, 
and  they  stared  at  the  Northman  in  wondering  silence. 
But  the  king  half  rose  on  his  couch. 

"  What  does  this  mean,  Dane?  "  he  demanded.  "  Do 
guests  in  the  North  dine  in  full  war-gear?  " 

°,"  Not  so,  lord  king ;  in  the  North  there  is  no  need." 

"Saint  Michael!   what  need  here?" 

"  This  is  good  answer,"  replied  Olvir ;  and  plucking 
the  poisoned  arrow  from  beneath  his  cloak,  he  darted  it 
into  the  table  directly  before  Duke  Lupus.  The  Vascon's 
startled  cry  and  deathly  pallor,  as  he  flung  himself  back, 
fully  justified  the  test. 

"The  viper!"  muttered  Olvir.  "Others  than  my 
kinsman  shared  in  the  murderous  deed.  Only  for  a  blind 
were  the  high  places  at  the  feast  kept  for  us." 

The  king  had  bent  forward,  and  was  reaching  to  draw 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

the  arrow  from  the  wood.  As  he  grasped  the  black 
shaft,  Gerold  cried  warningly :  "  Beware,  sire ;  the  dart 
is  venomed ! " 

Karl  sat  upright,  the  arrow  raised  before  his  eyes. 

"  I  see,"  he  said  sternly,  "  this  is  no  clean  point ;  but 
it  is  blunted." 

"  On  my  mail,"  replied  Olvir. 

"  Thank  God  the  mail  was  proof !  A  foul  deed !  Name 
the  wretches,  Count  Olvir.  They  shall  meet  death  in  the 
slime." 

"  That  I  may  not  do,  lord  king.  Would  such  foul  ones 
as  they  stand  in  the  open?  " 

"  This  is  no  Prankish  arrow." 

"  Nor  Vascon !  "  stammered  Lupus. 

Olvir  smiled  darkly.  "  Lay  it  to  some  chance  band 
of  outland  thieves,  lord  king.  No  others  would  be  so 
base.  And  now,  enough  of  treachery  and  bitterness! 
May  all  turn  again  to  the  merrymaking.  I  would  not 
be  a  mar-joy." 

Karl  nodded  gravely  and  rolled  the  poisoned  arrow  in 
his  kerchief.  Then  he  sank  back  again  upon  his  couch,  and 
gave  command :  "  The  count  says  well.  Let  the  feast  go 
on." 

But  Olvir  stood  waiting  beside  his  place. 

"What  more?"  demanded  Karl. 

"  Does  the  host  question  my  feast-dress?  " 

"I?  No!  What  does  my  lord  count  mean?"  ex- 
claimed Lupus.  "  I  welcome  you  gladly,  in  steel  or  in  silk. 
Feast  and  be  merry !  " 

"  As  you  bid,  lord  duke,"  replied  Olvir,  smiling ;  but 
as  he  stretched  out  on  the  couch  his  eyes  sparkled  with 
another  look  than  friendship. 

"  So ;  the  wily  snake !  Not  my  cup  alone  shall  taste 
of  gall." 

114 


"  White  to  the  lips,  the  young  sea-king  turned  to 
his  enemy."  [Page  44 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  comforting  thought  was  diverted  by  a  soft  whis- 
per at  his  ear,  —  "  Do  not  be  deceived,  lord  count.  The 
Merwing  lies." 

In  the  tense  strain  of  his  test  with  the  arrow,  Olvir 
had  lost  all  consciousness  of  Fastrada's  presence.  Now, 
however,  he  turned  about,  and  his  gaze  rested  upon  the 
maiden's  exquisite  figure.  At  the  sight,  all  his  bitter 
thoughts  of  treachery  and  revenge  were  forgotten.  He 
had  no  time  to  recall  his  sword-brother  to  mind  before  the 
girl  raised  her  head,  and,  smiling  and  blushing  with  undis- 
guised pleasure,  turned  upon  him  a  look  that  set  his  heart 
to  throbbing  with  mad  delight. 

"  So  my  lord  count  is  at  last  pleased  to  greet  me,"  she 
half  whispered. 

"  I  had  first  to  greet  the  host,  maiden,"  rejoined  Olvir, 
with  a  flash  of  grim  humor. 

"Ail  it  was  grandly  done!  But  I  shudder  to  think 
of  your  peril ! "  and  the  girl's  bosom  heaved  with 
emotion. 

Olvir  gazed  straight  into  her  eyes,  blue  as  sapphires 
and  melting  with  love.  Again  his  heart  leaped  wildly  and 
sent  the  hot  blood  surging  through  his  veins.  All  the 
Oriental  in  his  nature  was  aroused.  But  it  held  control 
only  for  a  moment.  Over  the  graceful  head  of  the  maiden 
he  caught  sight  of  his  foster-brother's  face,  clouded  with 
doubt  and  bewilderment.  One  glance  was  enough  to  sober 
the  viking.  Not  even  youth  and  Eastern  blood  could  with- 
stand the  Northern  loyalty.  Olvir  tore  his  gaze  from  the 
spell  of  the  sapphire  eyes  and  stared  out  across  the  silver- 
laden  table,  his  face  stern  almost  to  fierceness. 

Fastrada,  her  blushes  fast  paling,  watched  him  from 
beneath  lowered  lashes  with  a  startled  look.  Roland  also 
watched  him,  his  blue  eyes  still  troubled.  Presently  a 
change  lit  up  the  Northman's  face.  He  turned  about,  with 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


a  frank  smile  for  Roland,  and  met  Fastrada's  glance  with  a 
look  of  calm  resolve. 

"  Drink  with  me,  maiden,"  he  said.  "  I  pledge  one 
who  is  the  truest  friend,  the  boldest  hero  in  all  Frank 
Land." 

"  I  drink  to  that  hero,"  replied  Fastrada;  and  over  the 
brim  of  her  crystal  goblet  her  eyes  again  beamed  upon 
Olvir. 

Great  as  was  his  self-control,  the  young  man  looked 
hastily  away.  But  then  his  lip  curled  in  scorn  of  his  weak- 
ness, and  he  exclaimed,  "  We  drink  to  my  sword-brother. 
May  he  find  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  queen's  fairest 
maiden ! " 

"  The  fair  to  the  fair,"  rejoined  Fastrada,  with  adroit 
play  on  the  word.  "  The  fair  count  will  win  a  flaxen  bride. 
But  among  the  dark  maidens  I  know  one  who  has  made 
choice  of  a  dark-faced  hero." 

At  the  open  confession  Olvir  panted,  and  his  eyes 
glistened  with  the  love  which  he  could  no  longer  restrain. 
Yet  he  held  firm  to  his  purpose. 

"  The  dark  maiden  is  a  foolish  maiden,"  he  answered. 
"  She  should  choose  the  blue-eyed  hero,  —  a  warrior  of 
kingly  blood.  His  great  heart  overflows  with  love  for  the 
maiden,' — he,  the  king's  kin,  who  need  but  speak,  and 
honors  will  be  heaped  upon  him.  But  the  dark  warrior, 
who  is  he?  —  a  heathen  outlander;  a  stranger  in  the  land; 
a  wanderer ! " 

"  No,  Olvir ! "  interrupted  Roland,  hoarsely ;  "  you  are 
no  stranger,  but  my  true  brother.  Listen,  Fastrada !  For 
no  short  day  you  have  known  that  I  loved  you,  and  you 
have  never  frowned  upon  my  wooing.  Yet  now  I  see  that 
you  turn  to  my  brother.  May  the  Holy  Mother  grant  that 
you  do  not  scorn  his  love  the  same !  Give  him  the  happi- 
ness which  I  thought  should  be  mine." 

116 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  And  which  I  '11  not  take  from  you,"  rejoined  Olvir. 
"  Shall  I  cut  the  heart  from  the  breast  of  my  brother?  " 

"  That  the  maiden  already  has  done.  I  blame  neither 
her  nor  my  loyal  brother.  You  have  wooed  for  me,  and 
failed;  now  you  can  woo  for  yourself  without  blame." 

"  He  may  win  the  same  answer,  lord  count,"  said 
Fastrada,  proudly. 

The  retort  passed  unheeded.  The  foster-brothers  were 
gazing  into  each  other's  eyes.  Soon,  however,  Roland 
turned  away,  that  his  friend  might  not  perceive  the  grief 
which  he  could  no  longer  hide.  Olvir  divined  the  cause  of 
the  movement,  and  he  also  sank  back  on  his  couch,  to  stare 
moodily  before  him. 

For  a  while  Fastrada  held  to  her  pretence  of  cold- 
ness, waiting  for  Olvir  to  begin  his  wooing.  But  he 
maintained  his  moody  stare,  and  gave  no  sign.  His 
silence  and  the  sternness  of  his  look  puzzled  and 
alarmed  the  girl.  Clearly,  this  was  a  very  different  kind 
of  lover  from  the  sighing  swains  who  trembled  if  she 
but  withheld  her  smiles.  Not  even  Roland  would  have 
so  fought  against  his  love  when  freed  from  the  bond  of 
foster-duty.  One  who  could  put  honor  before  desire  was 
indeed  rare  among  suitors.  Woman-like,  Fastrada  grew 
all  the  more  eager  at  the  seeming  indifference.  Unable 
longer  to  simulate  coyness,  she  leaned  toward  her  chosen 
hero  and  whispered  softly :  "  Olvir,  —  Olvir,  I  wait  to 
hear  you  speak." 

Without  turning  or  lifting  his  head,  the  Northman 
answered  coldly :  "  Why  should  you  wait,  daughter  of 
Rudulf?  I  have  stamped  my  heel  on  the  heart  of  my 
brother;  I  have  stolen  from  him  what  he  cherished  more 
than  life.  The  thief s  loot  is  the  thief's  curse." 

"  Yet  what  have  you  stolen,  Olvir?  Surely,  nothing 
that  Lord  Roland  possessed,  or  any  other  Frank.  Until 

117 


I 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

you  came,  I  had  never  loved  any  man  —  and  now  —  and 
now  —  " 

The  pleading  whisper  died  away  in  silence ;  but  Olvir 
had  turned,  flushed  and  bright-eyed,  no  longer  able  to  resist 
the  love  which  filled  his  whole  being.  He  saw  how  the 
girl  leaned  toward  him,  her  bosom  heaving,  her  scarlet 
lips  half  parted.  Her  cheeks  were  again  crimson  with 
blushes,  and  her  eyes  met  his  gaze  with  the  open  con- 
fession of  her  love. 

"  Thou  art  Freya ! "  he  exclaimed  adoringly,  and  the 
girl  quivered  with  joy  to  see  how  his  face  softened  and  his 
eyes  shone  with  rapture.  Half  unconsciously  they  drew 
nearer  together  and  murmured  their  love  over  and  over 
again. 

They  exchanged  rings  and  whispered  the  betrothal 
vows,  regardless  alike  of  the  unheeding  revellers  and  of 
the  far  from  friendly  glances  of  their  host.  If  Hardrat 
the  Thuringian  felt  displeased  at  the  success  of  the  Dane 
intruder,  no  trace  of  the  feeling  was  perceptible  on  his 
wine-flushed  features.  Lupus,  however,  took  no  pains  to 
repress  his  jealous  scowl. 

For  a  time  the  Vascon  was  required  to  devote  his  at- 
tention to  the  royal  guest  at  his  side ;  but  when  Karl  fell  to 
jesting  with  Abbot  Fulrad,  Lupus  could  watch  the  lovers, 
undiverted.  As  he  looked,  a  fit  of  jealous  rage  seized  upon 
him.  Though  they  hardly  touched  hands,  the  sight  was 
more  than  he  could  bear.  His  first  thought  was  to  sign  to 
his  steward  to  put  poison  in  the  Northman's  wine.  A  seem- 
ingly careless  gesture  and  nod,  and  the  crafty  slave  would 
know  the  chosen  victim.  But  the  sign  was  not  given.  At 
the  last  moment  the  duke  perceived  that  Olvir's  silver 
tankard  stood  brimming  beside  his  trencher.  What  little 
wine  the  young  man  drank  was  sipped  from  Fastrada's 
cup. 

118 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


Barred  of  his  simplest  and  most  certain  means  of  re- 
moving his  rival,  the  Vascon  sat  gnawing  his  lip,  his  face 
distorted  with  the  look  of  a  baffled  fiend.  Count  Hardrat, 
failing  to  attract  the  duke's  attention  by  his  warning 
glances,  spoke  to  the  steward.  But  the  mischief  was 
already  past  mending.  Drawn  by  the  intensity  of  the 
duke's  look,  Olvir  and  Fastrada  raised  their  heads,  and 
for  an  instant  both  saw  the  malignant  stare  of  the  Vascon. 
Quickly  as  he  looked  away,  neither  failed  to  divine  his 
jealous  rage.  Fastrada  clasped  her  lover's  hand  in  sudden 
dread. 

"  At  I  how  he  hates  you !  "  she  whispered. 

"  No  new  tidings,"  rejoined  Olvir.  Then  he  put  his 
hand  to  his  breast  and  turned  smilingly  to  the  maiden. 
"  Dear  one,  here  is  hidden  a  bit  of  hollowed  ivory  of  which 
you  may  have  knowledge." 

"  The  hollow  was  not  empty,"  replied  the  girl.  "  I 
feared  for  you  —  I  fear  more  now." 

"You  feared?" 

Fastrada  hesitated  and  glanced  across  the  table  at 
Hardrat.  The  war-count  was  intent  on  his  trencher.  She 
drew  a  deep  breath,  and,  with  eyes  downcast,  murmured 
her  answer  to  Olvir's  question :  "  My  lord  should  know  that 
others  than  Roland  wooed  me  before  his  coming,  and  so 
there  are  those  —  " 

"  —  Who  do  not  wish  me  well,"  said  Olvir,  as  the  girl 
faltered.  "  Still,  that  is  not  cause  enough  for  your  wolf's 
hair." 

"  True,  Olvir ;  and  yet  the  token  was  sent  at  a  venture. 
I  know  nothing  certain.  I  chanced  to  see  Lupus  talking 
with  my  drunken  countryman  Hardrat.  As  I  came  upon 
them,  Hardrat  growled  out  your  name,  and  repeated  it 
with  a  curse.  Then  they  saw  me,  and  the  drunkard  hurried 
away  like  a  guilty  man.  But  Lupus  stayed  to  greet  me.  I 

119 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


could  not  rid  myself  of  him  until  I  was  bidden  to  the 
queen's  bower." 

"  He  saw  that  you  thought  to  send  a  warning." 

"  No  serpent  is  more  subtle.  But  if  he  thinks  to  come 
between  us,  let  him  beware  !  " 

Surprised  by  the  hissing  note  in  the  softly  murmured 
threat,  Olvir  glanced  up  from  the  hand  he  was  fondling. 
He  was  too  late  to  catch  the  cruel  expression  which  for  a 
moment  had  marred  the  girl's  beauty  ;  but  he  wondered  to 
see  how  the  color  of  her  eyes  had  altered  to  a  greenish  grey. 
As  he  looked,  her  gaze  met  his,  and  the  greenish  tints 
quickly  gave  place  again  to  the  blue. 

"  By  Freya,  sweetheart,"  he  said,  "  your  eyes  change 
their  hue." 

"  My  heart  will  never  change." 

"  Nor  mine,  by  my  sword  !  But  what  hushes  the 
merrymaking?  Ah!  the  host  rises  to  speak." 

Standing  on  his  couch,  Lupus  smiled  down  conde- 
scendingly upon  his  guests,  and,  to  draw  attention,  waved 
a  hand  whose  every  finger  was  burdened  with  gem-rings. 

"  Brave  counts  and  holy  priests,  chaste  dames  and 
beautiful  maidens,"  he  began,  "  fill  your  goblets  to  the 
brim,  and  drink  with  me  to  the  health  of  the  great  ruler 
who  honors  us  with  his  presence." 

A  chorus  of  shouts  greeted  the  toast,  and  every  man 
sprang  to  his  feet,  Olvir  first  of  all. 

"  Long  live  the  king  !  "  cried  Hardrat,  his  bloodshot 
eyes  fixed  upon  Lupus. 

"  The  king!  the  king!  —  long  live  the  king!  "  shouted 
the  guests  in  chorus,  and  the  war-counts  brandished  their 
bared  swords  overhead  while  all  present  drained  their  wine- 
cups  to  the  bottom. 

As  Olvir  sheathed  Al-hatif,  he  looked  down,  eager  to 
rejoin  Fastrada.  In  this,  however,  he  was  to  be  disap- 

120 

EC 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

pointed.  The  duenna  dame  had  risen  from  her  chair  and 
was  leaving  the  table.  Immediately  all  the  women  present, 
dames  and  maidens  alike,  rose  to  follow  their  leader.  None 
longed  more  to  stay  than  did  Fastrada,  and  she  lingered 
beside  Olvir  to  the  very  last.  Already  the  women  had 
drawn  aside.  Olvir  looked  at  the  girl  ruefully. 

"  So  we  must  part,  sweetheart,"  he  sighed. 

Fastrada  gazed  into  his  dark  face,  and  half  whispered 
her  answer :  "  Ah,  my  hero,  would  that  the  time  had  come 
when  we  need  never  part ! " 

"That,  I  trust,  may  soon  be,"  replied  Olvir,  and  he 
drew  aside  for  the  girl  to  pass.  She  would  still  have  lin- 
gered beside  him,  but  the  old  dame  beckoned  to  her,  and 
she  glided  away  to  join  the  other  bower-maidens. 

As  the  women  swept  after  their  leader  through  a 
private  passage,  Duke  Lupus  reached  out  to  refill  the 
king's  gold  flagon.  He  was  met  by  a  quick  gesture  of 
refusal,  and  Karl  turned  his  empty  cup  brim  down  upon 
the  table. 

"  Enough  of  wine,"  he  said.  "  I  am  not  over-fond  of 
wassail,  and  the  feast  is  dull  without  our  fair  ones  to  grace 
the  board." 

Lupus  opened  his  lips  to  protest,  but  caught  a  glance 
from  Hardrat,  and  changed  at  once  to  bowing  compliance : 
"  Your  Majesty,  dancing  and  juggling  were  to  have  fol- 
lowed. Yet  whatever  may  be  your  pleasure  —  " 

"  You  are  a  kind  host,  and  we  give  thanks  for  the 
feast.  Another  time  we  may  enjoy  the  mountebanks. 
Farewell,  lord  duke.  God  keep  you!  Anselm,  a  word 
in  private ;  and  you,  Fulrad.  Farewell,  my  bright  Dane." 

Olvir  wheeled  about  to  salute  the  king.  As  his  hand 
fell,  his  eye  met  Karl's  smiling  gaze,  and  he  glanced  down 
at  the  royal  couch.  The  king  looked,  and  saw  the  arrow 
wrapped  in  his  kerchief.  He  nodded  gravely  to  Olvir, 

121 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

and,  arrow  in  hand,  left  the  chamber,  between  Anselm  and 
Fulrad. 

Released  from  restraint  by  the  departure  of  the  king, 
the  remaining  guests  gathered  about  the  head  of  the  table, 
and  many  accepted  the  duke's  invitation  to  join  in  a  was- 
sail bout.  Most  of  the  priests,  however,  and  a  few  of  the 
counts  at  once  withdrew  from  the  banquet-chamber.  In 
their  midst  went  Olvir,  so  intent  on  the  vision  of  Fastrada's 
loveliness  that  he  had  no  thought  for  his  foster-brother. 

Still  musing,  he  passed  the  door,  and  found  himself 
standing  in  the  torchlight,  face  to  face  with  Gerold  and 
Roland.  His  eyes  fell,  and  he  would  have  passed  by  the 
two  with  flushed  cheeks,  had  not  Roland  laid  a  hand  on  his 
shoulder  and  turned  to  walk  beside  him. 

"  Our  horses  are  at  your  camp,  gossip,"  calmly  re- 
marked the  Frank.  "  We  shall  return  with  you  for  the 
night." 

"  The  murderers  may  yet  linger,"  added  Gerold,  from 
the  rear. 

Olvir  halted  and  stepped  back  from  Roland. 

"  Thor !  "  he  muttered.  "  This  —  after  what  has  hap- 
pened!" 

"Are  you  not  my  brother?"  demanded  Roland. 
"Heal  I  know  now  she  did  not  love  me.  If  she  had,  I 
should  hate  you.  But  you  have  robbed  me  of  nothing. 
How,  then,  can  I  grudge  you  your  good  fortune?  " 

"Brother!  "cried  Olvir. 


122 


CHAPTER  XII 

Look  on  thy  loved  one, 
Lay  lips  to  his  lips. 

LAY  OF  GUDRUN. 

N  the  morning  after  the  feast, 
the  first  to  greet  Roland  as  he 
stepped  from  Olvir's  tent  was 
a  stocky,  bow-legged  warrior, 
whose  unkempt  red  beard  and 
travel-stained  dress  of  coarse 
wool  and  leather  spoke  far  more 
strongly  of  the  camp  than  of 
kings'  halls.  But  Roland  an- 
swered the  new-comer's  hearty 
shout  'with  a  greeting  no  less  cordial. 

"  Ho,  Amalwin !  "  he  cried ;  "  I  did  not  look  to  see  your 
Saxon  face  this  far  south.  What  of  your  fellows  in  the 
Sorb  Mark, —  Count  Rudulf?" 

"  Worad  and  I  came  with  our  levies,  the  few  that 
Rudulf  would  spare  us.  The  little  birds  twitter  on  the 
green  boughs ;  but  the  crafty  Grey  Wolf  scents  war  in  the 
spring  breezes.  He  will  not  venture  Rhineward  from  his 
mark  a  step  beyond  Fulda." 

"How  is  that,  friend?"  called  Olvir,  from  the  en- 
trance of  the  tent.  "  Will  not  Count  Rudulf  attend  the 
Mayfields?" 

The  Saxon  stared  at  the  Norse  earl  in  mingled  surprise 
and  admiration  until  Roland  repeated  the  question,  "  Then 
Rudulf  will  not  come  to  the  assembly?  " 

123 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


myself  back   over 
But   who   is   this 


"Not  he!     I   half  wish   I  were 
Rhine   Stream,    in   the   deep    forest, 
young  hero?" 

"  Greet  him  as  my  sword-brother.  He  is  a  Northman 
from  beyond  the  Danes,  —  a  fosterling  of  Otkar." 

"  Of  Otkar !  "  shouted  Amalwin ;  and  he  ran  to  grasp 
Olvir's  hand.  "  The  Dane  himself  took  me  thrall  at  the  fall 
of  the  Irminsul ;  yet  he  gave  me  freedom,  and  won  for  me 
the  good-will  of  Carloman." 

Olvir  nodded :  "  Be  sure  the  hero  spoke  no  ill  to  me  of 
Amalwin  the  Saxon.  But  Count  Rudulf  —  I  must  speak 
with  him." 

"  Then  you  must  fare  over  Rhine  Stream,  hero,"  re- 
joined Amalwin. 

"  I  know  the  Grey  Wolf,"  added  Roland,  nodding  in 
assent.  "  If  he  scents  forest-war,  he  will  not  stir  out  of  his 
mark  for  all  the  Saracens  in  the  old  Goth  realm." 

"  It  is  well  I  have  Zora,  brother.  I  shall  start  without 
delay.  The  time  of  your  Folk-meet  is  not  over-long." 

"  That  is  true,  Northman,"  remarked  Amalwin.  "  Two 
fortnights  will  see  the  close  of  the  Mayfields.  Though 
you  ride  the  fleetest  of  horses,  your  return  will  find  Karl 
the  King  across  the  Pyrenees,  and  the  Saracens  already 
broken." 

Olvir  shook  his  head;  but  Roland  broke  in  quickly: 
"  Come,  brother ;  let  us  bear  Amalwin  company  to  our  lord 
king.  He  should  know  at  once  of  your  wish." 

"  I  had  forgotten.  I  am  now  only  a  henchman,"  said 
Olvir,  and  he  frowned. 

For  a  little  while,  as  they  walked  along  the  river's  bank 
to  the  royal  pavilion,  his  anger  kept  him  moody  and  silent. 
But  then  he  began  to  question  Amalwin  on  the  course 
and  condition  of  the  roads  along  the  main  route  to  the 
Rhine. 

124 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Though  Karl  was  deep  in  the  affairs  of  his  immense 
realm,  he  was  none  too  busy  to  turn  immediately  at  sight 
of  the  Saxon. 

"Ho,  my  forest-bear!  —  greeting  to  you!  Where  is 
Rudulf  ?  " 

"  Lying  in  lair,  lord  king.  He  scents  blood  near  by," 
answered  Amalwin,  and  he  bent  awkwardly  to  kiss  the 
royal  knee. 

"  How?    Stand  up,  man.    Are  the  Sorbs  harrying?  " 

"  Neither  Sorb  nor  Saxon ;  yet  the  old  wolf  will  not 
fare  far  from  his  mark.  His  wife,  the  Wend  woman,  has 
been  at  her  witchery.  She  forebodes  evil  from  the  west. 
So  he  lies  in  his  mark,  sniffing  the  Saxon  breezes." 

"  Witchcraft  —  witchcraft !  "  muttered  Karl,  frowning. 
"  We  must  again  warn  Rudulf  to  keep  his  outland  dame 
within  our  law.  But  as  to  the  boding,  —  the  fiends  may 
read  the  future!  Rudulf  has  a  grey  head,  and  you,  my 
bright  Dane,  brought  added  warning.  Rudulf  shall  have 
our  arrow-bode,  to  levy  at  will  all  the  land-host  of  Thu- 
ringia  and  Austrasia." 

"  Give  me  leave  to  bear  the  message,  lord  king,"  said 
Olvir. 

"  You,  my  Dane  hawk?  I  counted  on  you  to  lead  the 
host  into  Spain." 

"  My  kinsman  Al  Arabi  gave  me  an  Arab  mare.  I  will 
go  and  come  before  the  ending  of  the  Mayfields." 

"  Then  your  mare  must  be  winged !  Why  should  you 
go?" 

Olvir  glanced  at  Roland,  flushing  darkly. 

The  Frank  met  the  look  with  a  grave  smile,  and  an- 
swered for  his  sword-brother:  "  It  is  a  simple  matter,  sire. 
Olvir  would  ask  Count  Rudulf  for  the  hand  of  his  daughter. 
The  Thuringian  will  not  come  south;  so  the  suitor  must 
go  north." 

125 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Still,  it  is  a  long  journey." 

"  I  will  return  before  you  march,  lord  king,"  repeated 
Olvir. 

Karl  gazed  steadily  into  the  haughty  face  of  the  North- 
man. What  he  saw  there  soon  satisfied  his  doubts.  He 
nodded,  and  said  briefly :  "  Fulrad  will  have  the  writings 
drawn  up  within  an  hour.  Make  ready —  Stay!  here  is 
my  ring.  It  may  speed  your  faring." 

Olvir's  eyes  glistened  as  he  took  the  royal  signet. 

"  Thor !  "  he  cried.  "  Here  is  a  king  whom  a  king's 
son  may  serve  without  shame !  " 

"  Then  fly,  king's  son.  We  '11  be  looking  for  your 
return." 

Olvir  saluted,  and  hastened  out  through  the  crowds  of 
envious  lords.  He  was  springing  away  from  the  pavilion, 
when  Roland's  voice  brought  him  to  a  stand :  "  Hold, 
brother!  a  word.  I  go  first  to  the  villa,  to  make  ready 
for  your  farewell." 

"Brother  —  ay,  brother!"  muttered  Olvir;  and  he 
stood  hesitating,  overcome  by  the  insistent  generosity  of 
the  Frank.  But  time  pressed.  He  waved  his  hand  to 
Roland  and  darted  away  again. 

The  hour  had  hardly  passed  when  Olvir  sprang  down 
from  Zora's  back,  beside  Gerold  and  Roland,  at  the  main 
gateway  of  the  villa.  The  older  count  promptly  took  the 
bridle-rein,  while  Gerold  turned  and  led  Olvir  to  the  queen's 
apartments. 

There  was  little  change  within  the  bower  since  Olvir's 
first  visit.  As  before,  Hildegarde  sat  on  the  dais,  with  the 
children  grouped  about  her  feet,  and  the  row  of  busy 
maidens  on  her  left.  Only  the  king  was  absent. 

At  Olvir's  entrance,  the  maidens  dropped  their  needle- 
work, to  glance  at  him  from  beneath  their  lashes  and  ex- 
change softly  murmured  comments  on  his  appearance.  But 

126 


sacs; 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Olvir's  gaze  was  already  fixed  upon  the  graceful  form  of 
Fastrada,  among  the  children  on  the  dais  edge.  Heedless 
of  the  chattering  maidens,  he  hastened  forward,  his  ardor 
so  keen  that  he  could  hardly  conceal  his  impatience  when 
Rothada  came  running  to  meet  him. 

"  You  leave  us,  Lord  Olvir !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Ay,  little  maid ;  the  time  is  short.  Farewell,"  he  an- 
swered, and,  with  a  hasty  kiss  on  her  forehead,  he  passed 
by.  For  a  moment  he  knelt  to  kiss  the  queen's  hand,  and 
then  he  was  beside  Fastrada,  drinking  in  the  loveliness  of 
her  blushing  face.  The  look  in  her  eyes  as  she  gazed  at  his 
lithe  figure  and  resplendent  war-gear  filled  him  with  such 
an  intoxicating  delight  that  for  a  little  he  failed  to  compre- 
hend Hildegarde's  remark :  "  I  know  nothing  of  your  Norse 
customs,  Lord  Olvir.  Here  we  are  somewhat  strict  with 
unbetrothed  maidens.  You  must  say  your  farewells  in  our 
presence." 

Fastrada  drooped  her  head  to  hide  a  look  of  resent- 
ment, and  her  dainty  foot  tapped  the  floor  ominously. 
Olvir,  however,  the  moment  he  sensed  the  queen's  mean- 
ing, smiled  up  at  her  and  answered  gaily,  "  Why  speak  of 
strictness,  dear  dame?  True  love  has  nothing  to  hide." 

As  he  spoke,  he  took  Fastrada's  hands,  and  bent  to 
kiss  her,  thrilling  with  all  the  love  and  reverence  of  the 
Northern  heart  for  a  pure  woman.  But  as  their  lips  met, 
the  girl,  unable  to  restrain  the  impulse  of  her  wild  Wendish 
blood,  threw  herself  upon  his  breast,  and  flung  her  arms 
about  his  neck.  He  could  feel  the  throbbing  of  her  heart 
through  his  mail. 

"  Farewell,  my  lord  —  my  hero !  "  she  whispered 
brokenly.  "  Hasten  back  again.  If  you  linger,  I  shall 
die!" 

"  Never  has  man  gone  that  journey  swifter  than  I  shall 
go,  dear  one.  If  you  have  need  of  service,  ask  for  Liutrad 

127 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Erlingson.  All  my  sea-wolves  are  at  your  command.  Now, 
farewell,  for  a  little  time ! " 

Tearing  himself  from  the  girl's  embrace,  Olvir  turned 
and  walked  quickly  away.  Rothada  and  her  brothers  joined 
the  queen  in  a  chorus  of  God-speeds  ;  but  Olvir  waved  his 
hand  and  leaped  out  through  the  doorway,  without  a  single 
glance  even  for  Fastrada. 

He  found  Roland  with  one  hand  on  Zora's  neck  and 
the  other  caressing  the  mare's  bony  cheek.  The  Frank 
turned  at  once  at  the  sound  of  Olvir's  light  step,  and  caught 
his  outstretched  hands.  For  a  moment  the  two  gazed  at 
each  other  with  eyes  aglow.  Then  Olvir  leaped  into  the 
saddle  and  called  to  the  mare  in  Arabic.  Wheeling  at  the 
word,  she  leaped  through  the  gateway  and  shot  away  down 
the  road  like  an  arrow. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


Riding  swift  on  his  errands 
On  the  bit-gripping  steed. 

SONG  OP  ATLI. 

HOUGH  reared  on  the  iron 
coast  of  Northern  Norway,  Olvir 
Thorbiornson  had  coursed  more 
than  one  good  horse  over  the 
flat  shores  of  Jutland  and  Frisia. 
What  was  no  less  to  his  present 
advantage,  he  held  clearly  in 
mind  all  that  Otkar  Jotuntop 
had  told  him,  in  his  childhood, 
of  the  emir's  red  racers  of  the 

desert.  Yet,  confident  as  he  felt  of  Zora's  endurance, 
throughout  the  first  day's  ride  he  restrained  his  desire  to 
course  at  full  speed,  and  held  the  willing  mare  in  check. 
Even  a  Prankish  horse,  if  spurred,  might  have  kept  the 
road  with  them  to  the  first  night's  rest,  —  at  a  Gothic 
farmstede  just  beyond  PeYigueux. 

On  the  second  day,  however,  Olvir  held  a  looser 
rein,  and  Zora's  long  stride  swept  him  forward  through 
the  fertile  country  of  mid-Aquitania  at  a  pace  to  as- 
tonish the  dark-featured  Gallo-Roman  serfs  toiling  in  the 
fields  beside  the  road.  Even  the  occasional  Prankish 
noble  and  pompous  bishop  faring  along  the  ancient 
highway  could  not  but  halt  to  stare,  with  gaping  mouth, 
as  the  bright  Northman  shot  past  them  on  the  red 
mare. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

It  might  be  that  they  would  first  catch  sight  of  the 
rider  in  the  distance,  attracted  by  the  sun-rays  glittering  on 
his  mail  and  helmet.  Then  he  would  be  rushing  upon  them, 
and  they  would  draw  aside  to  see  him  pass.  Scarcely  a 
glance  would  they  have  as  horse  and  rider  dashed  by ;  but 
it  was  a  glance  not  soon  to  be  forgotten,  —  the  rider,  with 
the  sun  glinting  on  his  war-gear  and  jewelled  sword,  star- 
ing eagerly  ahead  along  the  road ;  the  red  mare,  with  out- 
stretched head  and  trumpet  nostrils,  sweeping  over  the 
ground  with  long,  easy  strides. 

But  not  all  saw  the  king's  messenger  so.  Now  and 
then  Olvir  leaped  from  the  small  Arab  saddle  and  ran  be- 
side Zora,  lightly  as  a  deer,  his  hand  upon  her  withers. 
The  change  rested  both  mare  and  rider,  and  slackened  the 
pace  but  little.  A  hunter  who  could  boast  of  having  run 
down  the  grey  wolf  afoot  in  fair  chase  was  not  apt  to  lag 
in  the  pace  with  a  hand  on  his  horse.  Another  aid  to  Zora 
was  the  fair  condition  of  the  main  route  across  the  rich 
province.  Before  the  king  had  marched  south,  the  counts 
of  Aquitania,  spurred  to  unwonted  activity  by  the  prospect 
of  his  coming,  had  put  both  highroad  and  bridges  in  moder- 
ately good  repair. 

So  it  chanced  that,  shortly  before  sunset,  Olvir  halted 
for  the  night  at  a  monastery  a  round  ninety  miles  from 
where  he  had  mounted  at  dawn.  The  sight  of  the  warlike 
rider  as  he  rode  through  their  gates  brought  the  black- 
robed  Benedictines  flocking  about  him  with  hospitable 
greetings;  and  when  Olvir  showed  the  king's  signet,  the 
abbot  himself  sought  the  privilege  of  kissing  the  royal  ring. 

But  Olvir  declined  the  wassail-feast  with  which  the 
silk-clad  priest  would  have  honored  him.  Instead,  he 
groomed  Zora  with  his  own  hands,  and,  having  eaten  as 
plain  and  scanty  a  meal  as  he  had  doled  out  for  the  mare, 
he  withdrew  at  once  to  a  common  bed  in  the  hospice. 

130 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Dawn  found  Zora  munching  the  last  of  her  measure  of 
barley  from  the  stone  manger,  while  her  master,  his  hunger 
already  satisfied  by  a  share  of  the  porter's  breakfast,  paced 
up  and  down  the  monastery  court  to  rid  himself  of  the  stiff- 
ness yet  lingering  in  his  joints.  At  the  first  ray  of  sun- 
rise, master  and  mare  were  passing  out  through  the  gates, 
leaving  the  porter  to  mumble  his  blessing  over  the  hand- 
ful of  silver  pennies  which  had  fallen  from  the  rider's 
hand. 

The  morning  was  yet  early  when,  without  stopping, 
Olvir  rode  past  beneath  the  turreted  walls  of  Poitiers,  and 
noon  found  the  red  mare  racing  over  the  plains  of  Touraine. 
From  both  Otkar  and  Roland,  Olvir  had  heard  the  tale  of 
the  fateful  battle  in  which  the  Hammer  of  the  Franks  had 
shattered  the  victorious  hordes  of  Saracen  invaders.  Only 
forty-six  years  had  passed  since  that  terrible  slaughter  of 
the  Moslemah,  and  as  Zora  coursed  along  the  smooth  high- 
way which  stretched  across  the  wide  scene  of  the  struggle, 
her  rider's  glance  rested  on  luxuriant  fields  where  the  serfs 
yet  ploughed  up  fragments  of  outland  war-gear  from  the 
blood-drenched  soil. 

The  young  Northman  was,  however,  less  impressed  by 
the  thought  of  the  great  battle  than  by  the  grand  monu- 
ments of  the  ancient  Roman  occupancy,  —  the  lofty  towers 
and  walls,  massive  arched  bridges  and  aqueducts  which, 
where  uninjured  by  man,  still  stood  about  the  land,  huge 
and  uncrumbling  after  centuries  of  use.  Often  as  Otkar 
had  described  to  him  the  buildings  of  the  old  Romans,  Olvir 
found  himself  staring  at  them  in  no  little  astonishment  and 
wonder.  His  learning,  however,  spared  him  the  awe  which 
would  have  been  felt  by  his  simpler  countrymen  or  the 
forest-dwelling  Saxons,  among  whom  the  mighty  stone 
burgs  and  aqueducts  were  commonly  regarded  as  the  works 
of  giants. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  interest  of  the  king's  messenger  was  at  last 
drawn  from  these  Roman  structures  to  the  rapidly  increas- 
ing numbers  of  wayfarers,  journeying  like  himself  to  the 
north.  Every  class  of  society  was  represented,  from  counts 
and  mitred  bishops,  travelling  with  princely  retinues,  to 
wretched  poor  folk,  forced  into  a  life  of  wandering 
and  beggary  by  the  ever-increasing  oppression  of  brutal 
lords. 

In  the  well-tilled  fields  which  bordered  the  highway, 
Olvir  could  see  numbers  of  toiling  husbandmen,  part  of  the 
fifteen  thousand  and  odd  serfs  owned  by  the  Abbey  of 
Saint  Martin.  Here  was  Christianity  exemplified,  —  the 
priests  of  the  rueful  White  Christ  sitting  in  purple  and 
cloth  of  gold,  while  their  fellowmen  sweated  and  slaved  to 
bring  them  wealth!  The  thought  filled  Olvir  with  such 
loathing  that  when  he  crossed  the  Cher  and  approached 
Tours,  in  the  thick  of  the  crowd,  it  was  all  he  could  do  to 
bring  himself  to  accept  the  hospitality  of  the  famous  abbey. 
Nor  was  his  aversion  to  his  monkish  hosts  lessened  when 
the  almoner,  overflowing  with  pride  for  his  monastery,  in- 
sisted upon  showing  the  king's  messenger  all  the  treasures 
of  the  church  and  shrine. 

The  gold-wrought  hangings  and  the  screens  of  brass 
and  precious  metals,  the  silver  candelabra  and  the  gemmed 
images,  at  first  half  dazzled  the  unaccustomed  eyes  of  the 
Northman.  But  while  those  black  eyes  glistened  with 
wonder  and  admiration  of  so  many  precious  and  beautiful 
things,  the  lip  beneath  curled  in  scorn  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  hoard  had  been  gathered,  and  of  the  images,  to 
which  devout  worshippers  were  offering  praise  and  adora- 
tion, alike  sanctioned  and  commended  by  the  Bishop  of 
Rome. 

"  By  the  Beard !  "  muttered  Olvir,  in  Arabic ;    "  and 
these  folk  call  the  Saracens  pagans ! " 
132 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  outlying  buildings  of  the  monastery,  where  monks 
in  short-skirted  working  frocks  plied  various  trades  and 
handicrafts,  tended  somewhat  to  lessen  the  Northman's 
scorn  of  the  woman-clad  priests.  But  in  the  morning  he 
gave  to  the  almoner  the  exact  amount  which  he  thought  his 
lodging  was  worth,  and  rode  on  his  way,  glad  to  leave 
behind  him  the  shuffling  black  figures,  the  tinkling  bells, 
and  the  melancholy  chants. 

Once  on  the  road  again,  all  bitterness  soon  passed  from 
Olvir's  mind.  The  day  was  fair,  the  road  smooth,  and 
already  Zora's  steel  limbs  had  borne  him  far  on  his  journey. 
He  cried  aloud  in  sheer  gladness  of  heart,  and  from  the 
pouch  which  the  king's  own  hand  had  fastened  to  his  saddle 
he  flung  a  fistful  of  pennies  to  the  rabble  of  pilgrims  by  the 
wayside.  Then  Zora  lengthened  her  stride;  and  the  wind 
whistled  in  his  ears  a  song  of  hope  and  love. 

And  so  Aquitania  was  left  to  the  south,  and  the  king's 
messenger  rode  up  the  Loire's  right  bank  into  Neustria, 
where  were  to  be  seen  more  Franks  and  no  Goths,  but  still 
a  vast  body  of  subject  Gallo-Romans.  Swiftly  as  he 
passed,  Olvir  saw  much  of  the  beautiful  land,  whose  tilled 
fields  were  interspersed  with  woodlands  and  meadows. 
Yet  pleasant  as  was  the  land  to  the  eye,  Olvir  observed  that 
the  few  Prankish  husbandmen  whom  he  passed  differed 
little  in  dress  and  bearing  from  the  dark-haired  serfs. 
What  hope  for  the  future  could  the  free  Franks  hold,  when 
even  the  iron  rule  of  their  mightiest  king  could  not  shield 
them  from  the  greed  and  rapacity  of  their  lords? 

But  Olvir  had  little  commiseration  to  waste  on  Chris- 
tian freemen.  Why  did  they  not  stand  to  their  ancient 
rights,  like  the  Norse  commonfolk,  and  cut  off  the  heads 
of  all  lawbreakers,  whether  thralls  or  kings?  With  a 
scornful  smile  he  put  the  weaklings  from  his  thoughts,  and 
sped  on  across  Neustria  as  he  had  sped  across  Aquitania. 

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FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

As  he  approached  Paris,  Olvir  began  to  fear  that 
Zora's  hoofs  would  soon  crack  from  the  continual  beating 
on  the  hard  roads.  So  he  sought  out  the  most  noted  iron- 
smith  in  the  city,  and  he  and  Zora  lodged  that  night  in  the 
hovel  of  the  low-born  sledge-wielder. 

Never  had  Zora  been  groomed  as  she  was  groomed  by 
the  smith  that  night  and  in  the  morning ;  and  when  it  came 
to  the  shoeing,  one  would  have  thought  the  mare  a  queen, 
with  such  care  and  delicacy  did  the  man  fit  on  the  light  iron 
running  shoes.  While  he  then  spent  the  forenoon  in  yet 
more  grooming,  Olvir  took  a  stroll  into  the  city.  He  found 
gardens  and  convents,  hovels  and  palaces,  spread  over  all 
the  Island  of  Notre  Dame  and  along  both  banks  of  the 
Seine  opposite.  Undeterred  by  the  narrowness  and  filth 
of  the  streets,  he  crossed  the  ancient  Roman  bridge  to 
the  island,  and  visited  the  palaces  of  Clovis  and  Julian  the 
Apostate,  and  the  great  domchurches  of  Saint  Genevieve 
and  Saint  Merdicus. 

Noon,  however,  saw  the  king's  messenger  not  only 
back  at  the  hut,  but  ready  for  the  road.  He  had  found 
Zora  sleek  as  silk  and  bright-eyed,  eager  to  start.  When 
he  mounted  he  said  nothing  of  pay ;  but  the  smith  bowed 
and  smiled,  and  wished  the  princely  king's  rider  a  hearty 
God-speed.  Smiling  in  turn,  Olvir  put  his  hand  to  one  of 
the  gold  spirals  on  his  left  arm ;  and  when  the  smith,  who 
had  not  heeded  the  quick  movement,  grasped  the  North- 
man's hand,  he  felt  an  angular  piece  of  heavy  metal  pressed 
into  his  palm.  The  giver's  hand  was  withdrawn,  and  the 
smith  stood  gaping  at  the  lump  of  yellow  gold  that  was 
worth  more  than  his  forge  and  his  home  and  all  else 
he  possessed,  though  he  threw  in  the  very  shirt  upon  his 
back. 

Before  the  man  could  recover  wit  enough  to  cry  out 
his  thanks,  Olvir  was  riding  away  down  the  crooked  street. 

I I  134 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


It  was  the  hour  when  most  of  the  Franks  were  seeking  the 
customary  noon-rest,  and  there  were  few  folk  abroad  to 
admire  and  wonder  at  the  king's  messenger  as  he  threaded 
the  narrow  ways  and  passed  over  the  Roman  bridges  to  the 
north  bank.  Before  long  Zora  bore  him  through  the  main 
gate  of  the  suburban  walls,  and  galloped  away  on  the  road 
to  Mayence. 

A  short  ride  to  the  Convent  of  Chelles  on  the  Marne, 
where  Olvir  delivered  a  message  to  the  abbess  for  young 
Gisela,  the  king's  sister;  then  Zora  was  given  free  rein. 
The  Prankish  smith  had  shod  the  mare  so  skilfully  that  she 
at  once  fell  into  her  stride,  and  the  race  swept  on  across 
Neustria,  north  and  east  into  Austrasia. 

Day  after  day  Zora  held  on  at  coursing  speed,  never 
faltering,  her  steel  limbs  seemingly  tireless.  But  now  the 
roads  were  rougher,  and  more  than  one  bridge  was  missing. 
Twice  horse  and  rider  were  carried  down  from  treacherous 
fords,  and  once  Zora  sank  in  a  bog.  Neither  master  nor 
mare,  however,  met  with  injury;  and,  despite  all  hin- 
drance, the  long  miles  melted  swiftly  away  before  the 
mare's  easy  swinging  stride. 

And  so  the  king's  messenger  sped  through  Austrasia, 
where  corners  of  ancient  forest  yet  stood  unhewn,  and  few 
men  tilled  the  fields  who  could  not  show  visible  proof  of 
Germanic  blood.  From  Rheims  to  Treves,  Treves  to 
Mayence,  thence  across  the  Rhine,  and  along  the  Thurin- 
gian  trade-route  which  led  up  the  Main  and  on  into  the 
primeval  forest,  —  these  were  the  last  stages  of  the  great 
race. 

But  the  king's  messenger  was  spared  at  least  one  day 
of  his  expected  journeying.  At  Mayence  he  learned  that 
Count  Rudulf  had  lately  been  staying  at  the  Monastery 
of  Fulda,  and  that  it  was  possible  the  old  hero  had  not  yet 
returned  to  his  mark. 

135 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

When,  midmorning  of  the  next  day,  Olvir  came  at  last 
to  Fulda,  he  found  that  great  centre  of  civilization  in  the 
heart  of  the  beech-wood  vastly  different  from  the  gilded 
abbey  of  Tours,  with  its  slaves  and  precious  hoard.  The 
rude  mass  of  log  structures  was  a  very  beehive  of  skilled 
workers,  —  sturdy  brothers  of  Northern  blood,  who  found 
it  more  to  their  liking  to  toil  at  husbandry  and  the  handi- 
crafts, or  to  practise  with  the  pen  and  study  the  seven 
liberal  arts,  than  to  chant  the  dirge-like  hymns  of  Holy 
Church. 

Above  all  was  Olvir  drawn  to  Abbot  Sturm,  whose 
manly  and  dignified  welcome  of  the  king's  messenger  all 
but  conquered  the  young  man's  aversion  to  Christian 
priests.  Not  all  the  bluff  old  abbot's  urgings,  however, 
could  hold  Olvir  over  the  day,  when  he  learned  that  Rudulf 
and  his  Wend  wife  had  gone  to  the  count's  homestede  in 
the  adjoining  shire. 

Again  Zora  stretched  out  her  lean  neck,  and  raced 
away  down  the  forest  road.  By  midday  she  had  reached 
the  journey's  end.  On  a  rocky  knoll,  close  by  the  Fulda's 
bank,  stood  Rudulf's  burg,  —  a  walled  enclosure  in  which 
were  grouped  the  hall  and  bower  and  outbuildings  familiar 
to  the  Norse  eye,  and,  beside  all  these,  the  rude  stone  keep 
of  the  Franks  and  Southern  Saxons,  adopted  centuries  since 
in  imitation  of  the  Roman  tower. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


ever,  as  it  was 


When  a  wolf  thou  wert 
Out  in  the  wildwood. 

LAY  OF   HELQI. 

HEN  Olvir  entered  the  open 
gateway  of  the  burg,  no  sign 
of  life  was  to  be  seen  within, 
other  than  the  thin  streamers 
of  smoke  rising  through 
the  roof-hole  of  the  hall  and  the 
high  narrow  windows  of  the 
keep.  Not  even  a  hound  ran 
forward  to  bay  at  the  stranger. 
Olvir  felt  little  surprise,  how- 
for  the  Prankish  noon-rest.  Seeing 
that  the  great  red  and  blue  mottled  door  of  the  keep 
was  ajar,  he  sprang  off  before  it,  and  entered,  Zora  at  his 
heels. 

The  intruder  at  once  found  himself  within  a  gloomy 
apartment,  only  half  lighted  by  the  flickering  of  a  small  fire. 
Close  by  the  hearth,  on  the  side  nearest  to  the  entrance, 
crouched  a  woman,  at  play  with  several  weasels.  She  was 
chanting  to  them  in  a  tongue  unknown  to  Olvir ;  and  as  she 
droned  the  refrain,  the  weasels  ran  up  and  down  her 
extended  arms. 

Olvir  caught  only  a  glimpse  of  the  strange  play.  Be- 
fore he  had  ceased  blinking  from  the  sudden  change  out  of 
the  sun-glare  into  the  dim-lit  interior,  the  woman  had 
become  aware  of  his  presence.  A  low  hiss  brought  the 

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FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

weasels  clustering  about  her  neck,  and  she  glided  silently 
away  into  the  gloom  beyond  the  fire. 

"  I  have  known  warmer  guest-cheer,"  muttered  Olvir ; 
and  he  advanced  to  seat  himself  on  the  bench  beside  which 
the  woman  had  been  crouching.  As  he  took  the  seat  he 
heard  a  dull  grinding  on  his  left,  and,  looking  closer,  saw 
the  outlines  of  a  man.  He  touched  the  fire  with  his  foot, 
and  the  upleaping  flames  lighted  the  room  with  a  ruddy 
flare.  It  showed  to  Olvir  a  grisly  warrior,  bending  over 
a  newly  forged  sword-blade. 

The  worker  was  not  unusually  big  as  men  went  in  the 
North ;  but  he  was  lean  and  sinewy,  and  his  bristling  grey 
hair  and  beard  well  matched  the  wolf-hide  slung  across  his 
shoulders.  Except  for  the  fleshy  but  pointed  nose,  his  face 
was  covered  to  the  eyes  by  its  shaggy  beard,  and  the  grey 
bristles  grew  low  down  on  his  forehead,  close  upon  the 
overhanging  brows.  Most  startling  of  all  were  the  man's 
eyes,  long  and  narrow,  and  set  in  oblique  sockets.  One 
glance  at  them  was  enough  to  tell  Olvir  why  Count  Amal- 
win  had  called  Rudulf  of  Thuringia  the  "  Grey  Wolf."  As 
he  looked  and  wondered,  Olvir's  thoughts  flew  even  farther 
afield,  and  there  came  into  his  mind  the  memory  of  Floki's 
bitter  words  against  this  forest  hero's  daughter.  If  the 
father  so  clearly  looked  the  werwolf,  might  not  the 
maiden  — ?  But  he  put  the  disquieting  thought  from  him, 
and  sat  calmly  facing  the  fire. 

For  a  while  the  silence  continued  unbroken.  Then 
Count  Rudulf  flung  the  sword-blade  aside,  and  turned  his 
slit  eyes  upon  the  stranger. 

"  Guest,  or  tidings-bearer?  "  he  asked  in  a  harsh  voice. 

"  No  guest,"  replied  Olvir. 

"  What  tidings?  " 

"  Word  from  the  king  —  and  more." 

"Heal"  growled  Rudulf;  "I  thought  as  much,  — a 
138 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

court-man;  and  yet  such  mail —  You  ride  a  shapely 
mare." 

"  There  are  worse." 

"  She  is  lean.    You  rode  hard." 

"  Twelve  days  since,  she  drank  from  the  Garonne  at 
Casseneuil." 

The  Thuringian  shifted  on  his  bench  and  peered  at 
Olvir  with  narrowing  eyes. 

"Liars  are  abhorred  alike  by  Odin  and  the  White 
Christ." 

"  Here  is  the  king's  message,  sealed  with  his  great  seal. 
Doubtless  Fulrad,  Keeper  of  the  Seal,  noted  the  date  of 
sending,"  replied  Olvir,  coolly ;  and  he  held  out  the  folded 
parchment. 

Rudulf  took  the  message  in  a  hairy  fist,  and  stared  at 
the  barbarous  Latin  of  the  address. 

"  Open  and  read,"  said  Olvir. 

"  How  —  am  I  a  monk?  That  shall  wait  a  while.  You 
spoke  of  other  tidings." 

"  I  come  as  your  daughter's  wooer." 

Rudulf  laughed  derisively,  and  surveyed  Olvir  from 
helmet  to  buskin. 

"  A  gay  bird  of  the  South,"  he  sneered.  "  He  had  best 
wing  it  home  again.  The  North  is  cold  for  such." 

"  The  gerfalcon  soars  over  the  ice-fells,"  rejoined  Olvir. 

"  Gerfalcon  —  gerfalcon !  "  muttered  Rudulf,  in  an 
altered  tone.  "  It  may  be !  But  hearken,  my  gay  king's 
rider.  Falcon  or  sparrow,  you  had  best  be  winging  south- 
ward. I  have  broken  the  backs  of  two  Saxon  and  three 
Sorb  champions,  and  my  strength  is  still  with  me.  Fas- 
trada,  my  daughter,  goes  to  no  man  who  cannot  best  me 
at  my  chosen  game." 

Olvir  silently  laid  aside  his  helmet  and  unclasped  his 
mail-serk. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  I  am  ready,"  he  said. 

But  Rudulf  shook  his  grisly  head. 

"  It  were  a  pity  to  mar  so  shapely  a  child,"  he  mut- 
tered. "  Do  not  be  rash,  boy.  I  have  never  but  once  been 
thrown,  and  that  by  the  greatest  of  heroes,  Otkar  the 
Dane." 

At  that  name,  the  terrible  weariness  which  deadened 
Olvir's  nerves  fell  away,  and  left  him  a-tingle  with  life  and 
power. 

"  Come,  then,  braggart,"  he  jeered.  "  Now  shall  you 
bite  the  dust  the  second  time." 

Stung  by  the  taunt,  Rudulf  dropped  his  wolf-skin,  and 
advanced,  half  crouching,  upon  the  audacious  challenger. 
His  eyes  were  narrowed  to  a  line,  and  his  grey  hair  stood 
up  like  the  bristles  of  a  wolf.  His  gaunt  figure,  creeping 
forward  in  the  dying  firelight,  was  a  sight  to  appall  any  but 
the  stoutest  hearted. 

Olvir,  though  he  held  himself  with  seeming  careless- 
ness, waited  the  attack  with  every  faculty  alert.  He  had 
no  doubt  that  Rudulf  s  boasts  were  based  in  truth,  and  yet, 
though  the  strain  of  his  long  ride  was  against  him,  he  did 
not  shrink.  He  was  resolved  to  win  the  old  hero's  daughter, 
or  die  in  the  attempt. 

Zora  thrust  her  head  past  her  master's  shoulder. 
Without  averting  his  gaze  from  the  Thuringian,  he  uttered 
a  word  of  command  that  sent  the  mare  about  to  the  door 
of  the  apartment.  As  she  wheeled,  Olvir  feigned  to  glance 
away,  and  on  the  instant  Rudulf  made  his  leap.  Olvir 
dropped  forward,  and  the  leaper  stumbled  and  fell  head- 
long over  him  into  the  rushes.  Both  men  were  up  again, 
Olvir  only  a  moment  quicker  than  his  grey  opponent. 

"Heal  a  child's  trick,"  growled  Rudulf,  and  he  ad- 
vanced again.  This  time  Olvir  sprang  to  meet  him,  and  in 
a  moment  the  two  were  locked  fast  in  each  other's  arms. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


Olvir  at  once  realized  that  the  old  count  was  far  stronger 
than  himself  and  very  quick.  But  he  had  not  been  trained 
in  all  kingly  games  by  Otkar  Jotuntop,  that  he  should  fail 
at  such  a  time. 

Up  and  down  the  room  the  wrestlers  trampled  and 
reeled  in  desperate  struggle,  overturning  benches  and 
tables,  and  scattering  the  firebrands  among  the  green 
rushes.  Acrid  smoke  rose  from  the  floor  to  choke  the 
wrestlers;  but  they  staggered  to  and  fro  across  the  room, 
heedless  of  all  else  than  their  furious  strife.  Time  and 
again  the  Grey  Wolf  lifted  Olvir  sheer  off  his  feet,  yet 
always  the  Northman  regained  his  foothold.  The  Thurin- 
gian  could  neither  smother  him  in  his  terrible  hug  nor 
loosen  the  younger  man's  grip.  His  every  effort  to  shift 
the  hold,  so  as  to  break  Olvir's  back,  was  foiled  by  move- 
ments yet  more  adroit.  The  crafty  old  wrestler  had  met 
one  whose  skill  outmatched  his  own  at  every  turn. 

At  last  age  began  to  tell  against  the  Thuringian.  His 
gasps  told  of  failing  breath.  For  a  little  he  strained  his 
utmost,  his  teeth  gnashing  like  a  wolfs.  Still  Olvir  held 
fast,  biding  his  time.  Suddenly  the  Grey  Wolfs  grip 
relaxed.  In  a  twinkling,  Olvir  had  shifted  his  hold.  One 
arm  closed  about  the  count's  hairy  throat.  The  man  was 
at  his  mercy. 

"  Enough !   do  not  —  throttle  —  "  gasped  Rudulf. 

"  The  back-breaker  is  not  yet  upon  his  back,"  rejoined 
Olvir.  But  he  eased  his  grip,  and  Rudulf  answered  him 
quickly :  "  No  need  to  thrust  the  falling  tree.  You  have 
won." 

"  Well  said ! "  cried  Olvir,  and  he  supported  the  ex- 
hausted count  to  a  bench.  Then  he  flung  wide  open  the 
great  door,  and  gathered  together  the  scattered  brands  of 
the  fire.  As  he  put  on  again  his  bright  mail  and  helmet,  and 
sat  down  in  the  crossing  rays  of  flame  and  sunlight,  he  saw 


MM  MM 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

old  Rudulf  watching  him  with  a  bewildered  stare,  mutter- 
ing, "  Have  I  met  my  match  in  a  bairn?  " 

"  I  was  taught  the  game  by  him  whom  you  Rhinefolk 
call  the  Dane,  —  Otkar  Jotuntop,"  said  Olvir,  quietly. 

"Otkar— Otkar!  Ha!  I  thought  the  mail—  And 
Otkar  himself  trained  you?" 

"  I  was  his  fosterling  and  blood-kin." 

"  Was?  " 

"  He  has  gone  hence." 

"  Heu  I  the  North  has  lost  a  king  of  heroes.  But  he 
has  left  a  bold  foster-son.  I  ought  to  have  known  by  your 
eye,  if  not  by  the  mail ;  but  the  gold  and  the  pretty  stones 
threw  me  from  the  slot.  Your  bairn's  sword  —  " 

"  Bairn's !  With  this  blade  I  took  vengeance  on  my 
father's  slayer,  and  many  another  Dane  has  felt  its  point," 
rejoined  Olvir,  as  he  handed  the  sword  to  Rudulf. 

The  Thuringian  examined  closely  the  beautiful  re- 
curved blade,  and  shook  his  head.  "  This  may  be  good 
steel.  I  have  never  seen  its  like.  Yet  the  weapon  lacks 
weight." 

"  I  have  known  worse  blades,"  answered  Olvir ;  and, 
drawing  a  ring  from  his  finger,  he  tossed  it  into  the  air. 
As  it  fell,  he  thrust  out  and  caught  the  little  circlet  on 
Al-hatif's  point. 

Old  Rudulf 's  green  eyes  widened  in  a  look  of  approval. 

"By  Thor  and  the  White  Christ!"  he  swore;  "no 
maiden  need  fear  to  wed  so  deft  a  sword-wielder.  Say  the 
word,  hero.  Whenever  you  wish,  I  ride  with  you  to  old 
Sturm,  and  make  my  mark  on  the  betrothal  scroll." 

"  Hold  a  little,"  interrupted  a  softly  sibilant  voice,  so 
like  Fastrada's  that  Olvir  turned  about  with  a  throbbing 
heart.  He  saw  the  tall  figure  of  a  woman,  wrapped  about 
in  a  cloak  of  grey  wool.  The  woman's  face  was  hidden  in 
the  depths  of  the  hood,  but  back  in  the  shadow  he  saw,  or 

142 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

rather  felt,  a  pair  of  cold  eyes  fixed  upon  him.  He  had 
no  doubt  that  this  was  the  woman  of  the  weasels,  —  the 
mother  of  his  chosen  bride.  As  he  remembered  her  repute 
for  witchery,  he  felt  what  he  had  never  known  since  early 
childhood,  —  a  thrill  of  real  fear.  But  the  spell  passed  in  a 
moment,  and  he  watched  the  Wend  woman's  stealthy  ap- 
proach, calm  alike  in  seeming  and  in  reality. 

"  What  would  the  dame  ask?  "  he  inquired  gravely. 

The  woman  stared  at  him  from  the  depths  of  her  hood, 
and  made  no  reply. 

Olvir  stared  back  at  her  until  at  last  he  grew  weary 
of  the  delay. 

"  Let  the  mother  of  Fastrada  speak,"  he  said  in  a  tone 
more  of  command  than  entreaty. 

"  Do  you  not  fear  the  fiends,  son  of  Thorbiorn? " 
demanded  the  woman,  in  a  hollow  voice. 

Olvir' s  lip  curled.  "  The  grave-mound  was  my  dwell- 
ing, and  I  have  ever  drunk  to  Thor." 

"Foolish  bairn!  Do  you  not  know  that  I  can  blast 
you  with  the  curse  of  your  own  gods,  —  that  I  can  wither 
your  limbs  like  the  boughs  of  the  stricken  linden?  " 

Olvir  drew  up  his  lithe  form,  and  his  black  eyes  flashed 
defiantly. 

"  Now,  by  Loki !  "  he  cried ;  "  here  we  stand,  witch- 
dame.  Let  us  test  the  power  of  your  spells." 

"  Not  so,  hero.  I  have  tested  what  I  would  test,  even 
as  the  Grey  Wolf  has  tested  you.  Yet  there  is  more. 
Answer  me  with  a  straight  tongue.  Can  you  name  your- 
self a  king?  " 

"  Sea-king,  —  no  land-king.  Yet  my  father,  whose 
name  you  divined,  was  King  of  Lade,  and  I  am  now  heir 
to  the  high-seat." 

The  woman  bent  her  head,  and  muttered  to  herself 
in  her  strange  tongue.  Rudulf  stood  waiting,  as  though 

143 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

spellbound;  but  Olvir,  grown  impatient,  stepped  about 
to  go. 

"  Farewell,  dame,"  he  said  briskly. 

"  Go,  king's  son  —  Yet  listen !  I  doubt.  It  should  be 
king;  not  king's  son  —  and  grey  of  eye.  Heil  all  is  misty. 
The  fiend-gods  are  angered.  Stay  with  us  this  night.  I 
will  make  sacrifice  and  sing  the  fate-songs." 

Olvir  laughed.    "  I  ask  no  aid  from  gods  I  scorn." 

"  Then  I  leave  you  to  your  fate." 

"What  the  Norns  weave  will  come  to  pass.  Again 
I  say,  farewell,  dame.  Come,  Rudulf,  if  your  word  is  true." 

Rudulf  turned  to  his  wife,  and,  meeting  a  gesture  of 
assent,  hurried  out  after  Olvir  and  the  red  mare.  At  his 
whistle,  a  powerful  black  horse  came  running  from  the 
meadow,  and  the  count  mounted  without  saddle  or  bridle. 

Side  by  side,  Thuringian  and  Northman  rode  through 
the  wild  beech-wood  to  Fulda;  and,  on  the  way,  the  old 
count  plied  his  daughter's  suitor  with  many  shrewd  ques- 
tions. To  all  alike  Olvir  made  satisfactory  answer;  and 
the  Thuringian  raised  no  objections  even  when  he  learned 
that  the  young  sea-king  might  soon  bear  off  his  bride  to  his 
far  Northern  home.  It  was  enough  for  the  Grey  Wolf  that 
the  suitor  was  a  tried  warrior  of  good  birth. 

At  Fulda  he  refused  the  urgent  hospitality  of  Abbot 
Sturm,  and  waited  only  while  Olvir,  quicker  than  any  of 
the  monastery  scribes,  drew  up  the  betrothal  agreement 
I  in  beautiful  Irish  script.  Then  he  made  his  rude  mark  upon 
¥J  I  the  parchment,  and,  with  a  word  of  farewell  to  Olvir,  gruff 
but  hearty,  he  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away  home- 
ward through  the  gathering  night. 

But  Olvir  gladly  accepted  the  abbot's  hospitality,  not 
only  for  the  night,  but  for  two  more  days  to  come.  Though 
the  pick  of  a  breed  that  could  claim  greater  speed  and 
endurance  than  perhaps  any  other  stock  known  in  all 

144 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Arabia,  even  Zora  had  been  too  severely  taxed  by  the  strain 
of  the  long  race  from  the  Southland;  and  Olvir  himself, 
with  all  his  lifelong  training,  had  to  own  the  need  of  rest 
before  undertaking  the  return  journey. 

To  the  monks  of  Fulda  the  brief  visit  of  the  king's 
messenger  afforded  material  for  gossip  during  many  a  dull 
month  to  follow.  Young  and  old,  they  were  eager  to  serve 
him ;  while  Zora  had  no  lack  of  frocked  grooms  who  took 
joy  in  tending  and  caressing  the  wonderful  mare.  But 
what  appealed  strongest  to  Sturm  and  the  more  studious 
of  the  brothers  was  the  marvellous  learning  of  their  guest. 
Though  their  school  was  already  famed  beyond  the  borders 
of  the  kingdom  and  could  number  its  pupils  by  hundreds, 
so  greatly  had  learning  dwindled  throughout  Europe  that 
Olvir,  who  had  benefited  by  the  fruit  of  Otkar's  wander- 
years,  far  outmatched  the  scholars  of  the  monastery  in  all 
branches  of  knowledge  except  only  the  writings  of  the 
Christian  fathers. 

Nor  did  Olvir  detract  from  his  reputation  at  the  close 
of  his  visit.  One  of  his  last  acts  was  to  visit  the  monastery 
school,  where,  with  quick  discernment,  he  singled  out  and 
rewarded  with  a  handful  of  silver  pennies  the  brightest 
among  the  younger  students,  —  Eginhard,  son  of  Egin- 
hard,  a  nimble-witted  child  of  eight,  whom  history  was 
to  know  as  the  son-in-law  and  biographer  of  Karl  the  King. 


10 


CHAPTER  XV 

At  the  Thing, 
Where  folk  throng. 

LAY  OF  S1GRDRIFA. 

NCE  more  Zora's  round  hoofs 
beat  quick  time  on  the  roadway, 
and  the  ease  of  her  stride  was 
proof  that  the  rest  had  fully 
restored  her  strength.  With 
quick  intelligence,  she  felt  and 
responded  to  the  joyful  mood 
of  her  rider,  who,  with  the  be- 
trothal lines  safe  in  his  bosom, 
raced  away  southwards,  full  of 
song  and  gladness. 

Over  Rhine  and  through  Austrasia,  back  across  the 
Seine  at  Paris,  and  so  again  to  Tours  and  down  into  fair 
Aquitania  rode  the  king's  messenger,  ever  bright-eyed  and 
smiling.  At  Paris  he  had  stopped  again  half  a  day  with  the 
smith,  so  that  Zora  had  had  no  cause  to  feel  neglected; 
while,  throughout  the  long  ride,  he  had  lightened  the 
journey-toil  both  for  himself  and  for  the  mare  by  humming 
Northern  love-songs  and  Arab  chants  of  the  desert. 

So  the  king's  messenger  rushed  out  of  the  North.  The 
royal  signet  opened  for  him  all  doors,  and  no  wayside  thief 
dared  attack  so  well  armed  a  rider. 

Morning  of  the  twelfth  day  found  him  leaving  the  gate 
of  a  little  town  south  of  P^rigueux.  It  was  the  com- 
mencement of  the  journey's  last  stage,  —  so  Olvir  whis- 

146 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

pered  joyfully  in  Zora's  ear;  and  the  red  mare  responded 
by  stretching  out  her  neck  for  the  half-day's  race  that 
should  bring  them  to  the  Garonne.  At  first  the  faithful 
beast  showed  a  little  stiffness;  but  she  soon  fell  into  her 
stride,  and  the  long  miles  melted  away  from  before  her  no 
less  swiftly  than  when  she  first  left  Fulda. 

As  mare  and  rider  sped  along  the  highway,  a  stranger, 
judging  by  their  appearance,  would  have  thought  that 
they  had  just  burst  away  from  the  tedium  of  camp  life. 
Only  by  their  leanness  did  either  betray  to  the  casual 
glance  the  tremendous  strain  of  the  long  race  against 
time. 

Twice  during  the  morning's  ride  Olvir  dismounted  and 
ran  beside  the  mare,  to  ease  his  stiffened  limbs.  When, 
the  second  time,  he  swung  back  into  the  saddle,  his  eye  was 
caught  by  the  battlement  on  one  of  the  towers  of  Casse- 
neuil.  Then  the  full  view  of  the  Garonne's  valley  burst 
upon  him,  and  he  uttered  a  joyful  shout.  The  banks  of  the 
stream  were  still  dotted  with  tents  and  booths.  The 
Prankish  host  had  not  yet  marched  south. 

Assured  of  this  welcome  fact,  Olvir  turned  the  mare 
aside  to  a  spring,  where  he  groomed  her  carefully,  and  bur- 
nished the  silver  fittings  of  her  saddle  and  bridle.  After 
that  he  burnished  his  war-gear,  and  did  what  he  could  to 
cleanse  his  dress  of  dust  and  travel-stain.  Last  of  all,  he 
bathed  in  the  pool  of  the  spring  and  combed  out  his  red- 
gold  hair. 

"  So,  Wind  of  the  Desert,  now  we  are  fit  and  seemly 
for  Karolah's  presence,"  he  said,  and  he  kissed  the  mare's 
broad  forehead. 

A  little  later  he  was  cantering  down  the  road  which 
wound  through  the  Prankish  camps.  The  first  tents  to 
which  he  came  were  deserted ;  but  it  was  not  hard  to  divine 
that  their  owners  were  to  be  found  in  the  vast  crowd  on  the 

147 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

river-bank,  near  the  king's  pavilion.    Evidently  the  Prank- 
ish folk-council  was  holding  one  of  its  meetings. 

A  touch  of  the  rein  sent  Zora  off  to  the  right  across  a 
long  stretch  of  meadow  where  great  herds  of  cattle  were 
grazing ;  then  around  the  corner  of  a  little  wood,  and  they 
dashed  into  the  midst  of  the  viking  camp. 

Suddenly  as  steed  and  rider  rushed  into  view,  they  had 
hardly  gained  Olvir's  tent,  when  the  air  rang  with  shouts 
of  welcome,  and  the  Northmen  came  running  from  all  sides 
to  greet  their  earl.  In  the  lead  came  Floki  the  Crane, 
bounding  like  an  elk.  Yet  he  was  not  the  first  to  welcome 
the  sea-king.  The  flap  of  Olvir's  tent  was  flung  aside,  and 
Rothada  sprang  out,  radiant  with  pleasure.  Close  after  the 
girl  ran  Karl,  her  sturdy  little  half-brother. 

"  Lord  Olvir !  Lord  Olvir !  how  joyous  it  is  to  see 
you!" 

"  And  you,  king's  daughter !  Put  your  foot  upon  the 
stirrup  —  so !  " 

Drawing  the  girl  up  to  him,  Olvir  kissed  her  ruddy 
cheek. 

"  Hold,  little  vala,"  he  added,  as  Rothada  would  have 
sprung  down.  "  I  have  a  question  to  ask.  Where  is  your 
father?  and  how  came  you  here  alone?  " 

"  The  king,  my  father,  is  near  his  tent.  I  came  with 
Roland  and  Gerold  and  the  others.  But  Liutrad  was  sent 
for  by  Abbot  Fulrad,  and  Fastrada  returned  to  our  sweet 
Dame  Hildegarde.  Pepin  would  not  stay  with  me;  but 
Karl  —  " 

"Fastrada!  —  And  they  have  gone?  Ah,  well,  then, 
we  '11  go  to  the  king,  and  you  shall  sit  behind  me,  sweet- 
heart." 

"  On  the  beautiful  mare !    But  Karl  —  " 

"  He  shall  sit  in  front,  if  he  be  a  man.    So;  there  you 
are.    Now,  king's  son ! " 
148 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  boy  ran  forward,  delighted,  and  was  swung  up  by 
Floki,  astride  Zora's  neck. 

Then  the  jam  of  vikings  closed  in  around  their  leader, 
and  the  shouting  broke  out  again. 

"  Hold  your  noise,  fools !  "  cried  Floki.  "  The  ring- 
breaker  has  no  mind  to  be  deafened." 

"How  —  not  cheer?"  roared  back  a  scarred  old  ber- 
serk, his  ferocious  face  beaming.  "  Ho !  Thor  smite  the 
silent  ones!  Howl  your  joy,  sea-wolves!  Our  earl  has 
come  again  —  Haot!  " 

"  Howl !  howl,  wolves  of  Hild ! 
He,  our  hersir, 
He,  our  hero, 
Have  we  here  ! " 

rang  out  the  mellow  voice  of  a  skald  from  the  thick  of  the 
crowd,  and  the  quickly  turned  verse  was  echoed  by  a  roar 
to  be  heard  even  at  Casseneuil. 

Olvir's  eyes  sparkled,  and  he  wheeled  Zora  slowly 
around,  that  he  might  see  all.  As  the  shouting  died  away, 
he  lifted  his  hand,  and  answered  the  boisterous  welcome: 
"  Greeting  to  you,  sons  of  Thor !  My  heart  leaps  at  the 
sight  of  viking  faces!  But  now  I  must  go  to  the  Frank 
king.  I  will  come  again  before  nightfall.  Arm  yourselves 
as  for  battle,  that  I  may  see  if  the  camp-sloth  has  overtaken 
you." 

"  If  one  man  shows  a  rust-speck  on  mail  or  helmet, 
strike  off  my  hand,"  said  Floki. 

"  The  Crane  has  looked  to  it ! "  grumbled  the  old  ber- 
serk. "  There  are  softer-spoken  leaders.  But  he  has  kept 
all  well  in  hand,  even  as  against  Liutrad's  red  pig." 

"  I  will  hear  of  that  later ;  now  I  must  be  going.  Fare- 
well," replied  Olvir,  and  Zora  passed  with  her  triple  burden 
through  the  opening  crowd. 

149 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


The  mare's  gentle  canter  soon  covered  the  distance  to 
the  assembling-ground  of  the  national  council.  But  when 
she  left  the  last  bit  of  coppice,  young  Karl,  who  held 
the  reins,  turned  her  away  from  the  immense  gathering 
of  freemen  to  a  little  grove  that  shaded  a  company 
of  priests,  court-officials,  and  war-counts.  The  royal 
standard,  planted  before  the  grove,  marked  the  presence 
of  the  king.  Here,  in  fact,  was  the  inner  council  of  the 
Prankish  national  assembly,  whence  the  sovereign,  sur- 
rounded by  his  high  liegemen,  both  lay  and  ecclesiastical, 
sent  over  his  decrees  to  be  confirmed  by  the  voice  of  the 
freemen. 

When  Zora  approached  the  grove,  the  king  was  read- 
ing from  a  long  scroll,  and  his  audience  had  eye  and  ear 
only  for  the  royal  speaker.  Not  until  Zora  thrust  her  head 
over  Count  Amalwin's  heavy  shoulder,  were  the  new- 
comers perceived.  The  Saxon  turned  with  a  frown,  to 
start  back  and  stare  at  the  Northman,  open-mouthed. 
Olvir  leaned  toward  him,  smiling. 

"  So,  Saxon,"  he  said  quietly,  "  what  do  you  now  say 
of  my  mare,  and  what  of  her  master?  We  crossed  Rhine 
Stream,  and  more,  —  I  held  your  Grey  Wolf  by  the  throat." 

"How  —  Rudulf!"  shouted  Amalwin,  forgetting  all 
else  in  his  surprise. 

The  cry  rang  through  the  grove  like  an  alarm,  and  king, 
counts,  and  priests  alike  turned  to  stare  at  the  intruders. 
The  first  look  on  many  faces  was  one  of  resentment;  but 
then,  just  beyond  the  oaken  throne,  Roland  sprang  up  and 
came  running  with  a  cry  of  greeting  :  "  Olvir  !  Olvir  ! 
Welcome  back  again  !  " 

Close  after  him  ran  Liutrad  and  Gerold,  while  from  all 
sides  the  liegemen  pressed  forward  with  excited  shouts: 
"  The  Dane  !  It  is  the  Dane  count  !  He  cannot  have  gone 
and  come  already  !  Saint  Michael,  what  a  mare  !  " 

150 


i& 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Then  Gerold  caught  Zora's  bridle,  while  behind  him 
Roland  and  Liutrad  clasped  Olvir  by  the  hands.  So  es- 
corted, with  the  king's  son  before  him  and  the  king's 
daughter  at  his  back,  the  young  Northman  rode  forward 
to  the  very  edge  of  the  dais.  There  his  friends  stepped 
aside,  and  Olvir  would  have  dismounted.  But  Karl  stayed 
him  with  a  gesture,  and  came  forward  to  lay  his  great  palm 
on  Zora's  forehead. 

"  By  the  King  of  Heaven,"  he  muttered,  "  well  did  I 
name  you  my  Dane  hawk!  Six  and  twenty  days  ago  you 
rode  northward.  Have  you,  in  truth,  crossed  the  Rhine?  " 

"  To  Fulda  and  beyond,  lord  king,"  replied  Olvir;  "  to 
the  lair  of  the  Grey  Wolf." 

"Beyond  Fulda!  And  how  did  the  old  count  greet 
you?" 

"We  played  at  back-breaking  till  I  throttled  him. 
Then  we"  rode  to  Fulda,  and  he  made  his  mark  on  what  I 
asked  him." 

"  How,  Dane,"  demanded  the  purple-faced  Count  Hard- 
rat  ;  "  do  you  claim  to  have  outwrestled  Rudulf  of  the  Sorb 
Mark?  I  cannot  swallow  that  boast." 

Olvir's  lip  curled,  and  he  bent  over  toward  the  speaker. 

"  Shall  I  prove  the  boast  —  now?  "  he  asked  softly. 

"  Ay ;  now !  "  retorted  the  Thuringian.  But  then  the 
soft  hand  of  Duke  Lupus  fell  upon  his  shoulder:  "  Go  easy, 
friend.  Count  Olvir  has  already  tossed  you  over  his  head ; 
he  will  toss  you  again." 

"  Enough !  "  interrupted  Karl,  imperiously.  "  We  will 
have  no  brawling.  I  answer  for  Lord  Olvir's  truth." 

"  A  word,  lord  king,"  called  out  Amalwin.  "  I  know 
that  Rudulf  vowed  never  to  give  his  daughter  to  one  who 
could  not  best  him  at  his  own  game." 

"And  here  is  Rudulf s  mark  to  my  betrothal  lines," 
added  Olvir. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  I  need  no  such  proof  of  the  deed,  my  gerfalcon.  Put 
up  your  scroll,  and  dismount.  Give  me  the  child." 

At  the  bidding,  Olvir  tossed  young  Karl  into  his 
father's  arms,  and  Roland  swung  down  Rothada.  Then 
Olvir  leaped  from  the  saddle.  As  the  foster-brothers 
parted,  Liutrad  touched  his  earl's  shoulder. 

u  Have  no  thought  for  the  mare,  ring-breaker,"  he  said. 
"  Gerold  and  I  will  groom  her  with  our  own  hands." 

Among  the  first  of  the  company  to  congratulate  the 
Northman  on  his  wonderful  ride  was  Duke  Lupus. 

"  I  rejoice,  hero,  that  you  are  here  to  be  with  us  on  the 
morrow,"  he  concluded.  "  Count  Roland  and  your  learned 
young  Liutrad  have  planned  a  boating  party  up  the  Lot. 
The  queen  herself  will  attend,  and  also  one  whom  I  need 
not  name." 

"  My  thanks  for  the  good  tidings,"  replied  Olvir,  and 
his  hand  closed  with  cordial  firmness  about  the  Vascon's 
soft  palm. 

Then  Lupus  glided  away,  and  Count  Amalwin  thrust 
forward  a  slim,  hazel-eyed  young  warrior,  whose  firm-set 
jaw  alone  saved  his  delicate  face  from  girlish  softness. 

"  Here,  hero,"  called  out  the  Saxon ;  "  you  have 
wrestled  with  Rudulf ;  here  now  is  one,  half  a  monk,  who 
will  strive  to  match  you  in  book-craft,  —  Worad,  Count  of 
Metz." 

"  Not  I,  hero !  "  protested  the  young  man.  "  Already 
Liutrad  has  worsted  me.  If  the  man  be  so  learned,  how 
dare  I  meet  the  master?  Rather,  measure  your  lore  with 
Abbot  Fulrad." 

"  You  would  set  me  against  all  the  learning  of  Frank 
Land,"  said  Olvir,  smiling. 

"  That  we  shall,  lad,"  replied  the  king.     "  For  what 
should  we  gain  learning,  if  not  to  impart  it?     My  war- 
counts,  alas,  give  little  heed  to  letters." 
152 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  The  greater  heed  we  give  to  our  swords,  lord  king," 
mumbled  Amalwin. 

"To  your  trenchers,  rather!"  laughed  Karl.  "And 
now  I  myself  would  give  heed  to  the  same.  Here  comes 
my  cupbearer,  to  tell  us  that  the  meat  cools  on  the  spits." 

Giving  over  Rothada  and  her  brother  into  the  charge 
of  the  page,  the  king  led  the  way  to  the  table  with  a  hasti- 
ness that  betrayed  a  hunter's  appetite. 

Olvir  soon  found  himself  seated  at  a  rustic  board,  be- 
tween Roland  and  Worad.  Overhead  the  breeze  sighed 
through  the  green  foliage ;  but  the  birds  of  the  grove  had 
flown  away,  frightened  by  the  clamor.  After  no  little  con- 
fusion, seats  were  found  for  all  the  company,  and  a  crowd 
of  attendants  served  the  guests.  Very  shortly  the  loud  talk 
of  the  warriors  lulled,  and  little  else  was  to  be  heard  than 
the  click  of  knives  and  spoons. 

In  the  midst  of  the  feast  the  air  shook  with  a  great  roll- 
ing outcry  that  sent  Olvir's  hand  to  the  hilt  of  Al-hatif.  But 
the  Franks  went  on  with  their  eating  as  though  nothing 
had  happened.  Roland,  however,  observed  Olvir's  move- 
ment, and  hastened  to  explain. 

"It  is  the  assembly,"  he  said.  "The  freemen  have 
brought  their  deliberations  to  an  end." 

Olvir  smiled  ironically :  "  Otkar  had  somewhat  to  say 
of  your  Prankish  folk-thing.  Your  warriors  meet  to  shout 
for  what  the  king  bids  them.  In  the  North  at  the  thing  all 
alike  —  kings,  earls,  and  common  freemen  —  stand  on  the 
same  footing.  So  it  is  in  Saxon  Land,  and  so  it  was  once 
among  the  free  Franks." 

"  You  speak  boldly,  Count  Olvir,"  rejoined  young 
Worad  of  Metz.  "  I  might  answer  that  we  free  Franks 
have  passed  the  stage  of  the  barbarous  Saxons.  The 
Romans  were  very  wise;  we  have  learned  from  them." 

"  And  Rome  to-day  is  a  grave-mound  of  dead  might. 
153 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


Its  folk  bent  knee  to  the  foul  kaisers  as  to  gods,  and  their 
realm  crumbled  away.  Kings  alone  cannot  long  uphold 
kingdoms.  The  strength  of  a  land  lies  in  its  freemen." 

"  You  jest,  Olvir,"  protested  Roland.  "  See  how  our 
folk  have  become  bound  together  and  our  strength  been 
magnified  since  Karl  the  Hammer  seized  the  reins  of  power 
in  his  single  grasp." 

"  But  why  were  you  weak  before?  Your  freemen  then 
had  as  little  part  in  the  making  of  your  laws  as  they  have 
now.  Already  they  were  falling  into  slavery  and  serfdom. 
Even  during  my  few  weeks  in  your  land,  I  have  heard  how 
your  freemen,  to  save  themselves  from  pillage  and  starva- 
tion, are  fast  pledging  themselves  as  followers  of  the 
counts.  Lucky  for  you  so  great  a  one  as  yonder  world- 
hero  sits  on  the  throne !  When  he  is  gone,  I  foresee  evil 
for  Frank  Land." 

"  You  speak  words  of  ill-omen,  lord  Dane,"  said 
Worad,  flushing.  "  The  Franks  have  never  been  stronger. 
All  outland  folk  tremble  before  Karl  our  King." 

"  Not  all !    I  know  of  one  folk  —  " 

"  Hold,  Olvir,  for  my  sake,  if  not  for  your  own,"  broke 
in  Roland.  "  Nothing  but  bitterness  can  come  of  wran- 
gling. Look!  there  comes  the  folk-herald  to  tell  the  find- 
ings of  the  assembly." 

"That  is  he,"  assented  Worad,  "the  small  man  on 
the  grey  horse." 

The  herald  leaned  from  his  saddle  to  speak  with  the 
king,  and  then,  at  a  nod  from  Karl,  he  rose  in  his  stirrups 
and  shouted  down  the  long  table :  "  Ho,  lords  of  the  Franks' 
king !  learn  that  the  freemen  of  the  realm  have  confirmed 
all  laws  sent  before  them  by  his  Majesty,  and  they  give 
their  full  voice  for  war  against  the  pagan  Saracens." 

As  the  shout  which  greeted  this  announcement  died 
away,  the  herald's  voice  again  rang  through  the  grove: 

154 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Hearken,  all,  lords  of  the  king !  He  who  is  not  prepared 
let  him  make  ready.  Two  days  hence  the  host  will  march." 

At  this  command  the  war-counts  filled  the  grove  with 
their  shouts,  and  their  zeal  was  so  great  that  many  rushed 
off  leaving  half-filled  trenchers. 

No  Frank  was  more  pleased  than  was  Olvir. 

"  Come,  brother ! "  he  cried.  "  I  must  see  to  my  vik- 
ings. They  will  be  armed  for  my  return." 

"  You  will  find  them  brisk  in  action.  Floki  has  not  let 
them  lie  about  idle." 

"That  I  can  well  believe.  Farewell  for  the  time, 
Count  Worad." 

"  Until  the  morning,  lord  count,  if  nearness  to  the  time 
of  marching  does  not  prevent  our  boating  trip." 

"It  may  chance  that  Lupus  cannot  come;  but  that 
would  be  small  loss,"  said  Roland,  bluntly.  "There  is 
nothing  to  stay  the  others.  Are  your  men  ready  for  the 
road?" 

"  Amalwin  has  seen  to  that." 

"  And  Floki  to  mine,  I  could  swear,  brother,"  said 
Olvir.  "  Yet  we  should  go  and  see.  Again,  farewell." 

Worad  waved  his  slender  hand,  and  the  sword-brothers 
joined  the  crowds  of  departing  warriors. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


But  about  and  between 
Went  baleful  fate. 

LAY  OF  SIGURD. 

S  Roland  had  predicted,  nothing 
arose  to  interfere  with  the  plans 
I  of  the  maying  party.  Even 
Lupus  found  means  to  slip  away 
from  the  king's  presence.  His 
excuse  was  that  he  wished  to 
attend  the  queen.  With  the 
utmost  show  of  deference,  he 
ind  a  pair  of  young  pages  had 
escorted  her  to  the  landing- 
stage,  where  she  was  sitting  at  ease  in  the  midst  of  the 
royal  children  and  half-a-dozen  favorite  bower-maidens, 
when  the  Norse  ship-boats  came  racing  up  from  the  viking 
camp.  The  craft  were  steered  by  Olvir  and  Roland,  Gerold 
of  Bussen,  and  Count  Worad. 

Olvir's  oarsmen  were  not  the  best  among  his  vikings. 
Floki  himself  pulled  bow-oar  in  Roland's  boat.  Yet  the 
greater  skill  of  the  sea-king  more  than  offset  this  disad- 
vantage, and  he  steered  in  to  the  wharf  foremost  of  all. 

Forgetful  of  sore  muscles  and  stiffened  joints,  the  heri- 
tage of  his  ride,  Olvir  did  not  wait  for  his  boat  to  make  fast, 
but  while  it  was  yet  turning,  leaped  out  upon  the  landing- 
stage.  Though  he  hastened  at  once  to  bow  before  Hilde- 
garde,  his  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  glowing  face  which 
regarded  him  over  the  queen's  shoulder.  He  had  thought 

156 


«*• 

* 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

for  none  else.  Hildegarde  saw  and  understood.  She  met 
his  half-stammered  greeting  with  a  smile,  and  motioned 
him  to  step  behind  her. 

"  Greet  the  maiden,  Olvir,"  she  said.  "  No  wooer  ever 
rode  so  far  and  so  fast  to  win  his  true-love.  I  would  not 
keep  you  waiting  now." 

Olvir  thanked  the  kindly  queen  with  a  glance,  and  then 
he  was  beside  Fastrada.  It  was  the  moment  to  which  both 
had  looked  forward  during  all  the  six  and  twenty  days  of 
separation.  For  a  time  they  stood  with  clasped  hands, 
gazing  into  each  other's  eyes,  too  full  of  love  and  happiness 
to  speak.  They  were  so  lost  in  mutual  delight  they  did  not 
heed  that  all  the  others  had  embarked  and  were  waiting  for 
them,  until  Rothada  called  out. 

"Ah,  sweetheart,  we  must  go,"  sighed  Olvir.  "Yet, 
first,  a  word,  —  I  bring  good  tidings." 

Fastrada's  eyes  shone  still  brighter. 

"  I  know,  my  hero,"  she  murmured.  "  Yesterday  my 
heart  burned  that  you  should  have  first  seen  Rothada ;  but 
I  forgave  her  because  of  the  joyful  word  she  brought.  Oh, 
my  lord,  how  my  heart  leaps  to  see  you  once  more!  And 
you  have  ridden  over  Rhine  and  back  again,  with  scarce  a 
trace  of  the  long  journey !  Who  else  in  Christendom  could 
do  the  like?" 

"  Who  else  would  not  do  it  for  the  loveliest  among 
maidens?"  replied  Olvir;  and  with  that,  fearful  of  losing 
his  self-control,  he  led  the  girl  aboard  his  boat. 

Hildegarde  had  intrusted  herself  to  Roland,  along  with 
the  children.  All  others  had  chosen  places  in  the  remain- 
ing boats,  except  only  Rothada.  Though  begged  by  Worad 
to  come  with  him,  the  girl  had  placed  herself  aboard  Olvir's 
boat.  Even  Fastrada  could  not  ask  the  little  princess  to 
leave;  but  her  ready  wit  suggested  how  to  make  the  best 
of  the  situation.  At  a  word  from  her,  Olvir  told  one  of  the 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

pages  to  join  them.  The  boy  was  only  too  pleased  to  gain 
such  a  merry  companion  as  the  king's  daughter,  and  so, 
with  much  laughter  and  excitement,  all  was  agreeably  ar- 
ranged, and  the  five  boats  sheered  off  into  the  stream. 

Accustomed  as  were  most  of  the  party  to  the  river 
scenery,  all  found  much  to  delight  the  eye  in  the  pictur- 
esque hills,  the  woods,  and  the  flower-strewn  dales,  now  in 
the  full  green  of  early  summer.  Nature  added  her  share  to 
the  merry  maying.  There  was  no  cloud  to  be  seen,  either 
in  the  sky  or  on  the  faces  of  the  pleasure-seekers.  Even 
Roland  joined  freely  in  the  merriment,  and  unbent  so  far 
as  to  tell  the  king's  children  a  wonderful  tale,  —  all  about 
wood-sprites  and  werwolves. 

Of  all  the  party,  two  alone  had  no  thought  to  give  to 
jest  or  laughter,  and  yet  they  were  the  happiest  couple  in 
the  boats.  Faint  with  blissful  languor,  Fastrada  sat  beside 
her  lover,  too  overjoyed  for  words;  while  instinct  alone 
guided  Olvir*s  steer-oar,  as  his  boat,  leaping  to  the  strokes 
of  the  big-armed  oarsmen,  raced  upstream  in  company 
with  the  others. 

All  too  soon,  Gerold,  in  the  lead,  steered  ashore  to 
the  crumbling  stone  quay  of  an  old-time  Roman  estate. 
Through  the  trees  could  be  seen  the  shattered  walls  of  an 
immense  villa,  which,  Lupus  said,  had  been  looted  and 
burned  by  the  Saracens  on  their  way  to  Tours.  But  on 
landing,  in  place  of  proceeding  to  the  ruins,  the  party 
turned  aside  to  a  nook  in  the  abandoned  garden,  where  a 
stream  of  pure  water  gushed  from  the  mouth  of  a  mon- 
strous bronze  dolphin. 

Here  a  cloth  was  spread  on  the  grass,  and  the  bower- 
maidens  played  at  housewife,  while  the  younger  men  ran 
races  to  the  boat  for  forgotten  articles.  After  the  meal  a 
half-circle  was  formed  before  Hildegarde  and  the  children, 
and  each  member  of  the  party  was  called  upon  for  a  tale. 

158 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

So  with  stories  of  dragons  and  saints,  heroes  and 
sprites,  the  hour  of  noon-rest  was  passed,  and  young  Karl 
and  Rotrude  and  Carloman  slept  with  their  heads  on  their 
mother's  lap.  But  the  other  youngsters  at  last  wearied  of 
inaction,  and  Pepin  begged  to  see  the  ruined  villa.  The 
idea  was  at  once  caught  up  by  Worad  and  Gerold,  and  met 
with  approval  on  all  sides. 

The  villa  had  evidently  been  the  country-seat  of  a 
Roman  of  great  wealth.  In  size  it  was  little  less  than  a 
palace.  The  party  rambled  about  the  ruins  during  most 
of  the  afternoon,  with  no  slackening  of  interest.  From 
the  ash-heaps  beneath  the  fire-scarred  walls  the  young 
men  dug  out  pretty  fragments  of  statuary  ancl  many 
whole  tiles. 

Fatigue  and  thirst,  however,  finally  moved  Hildegarde 
to  call  for  a  return  to  the  fountain.  When  she  started,  sup- 
ported between  Roland  and  Lupus,  her  maidens  and  the 
younger  men  ran  ahead  to  gather  flowers  with  the  children. 
Olvir  and  Fastrada,  however,  walked  behind,  and  slow  as 
was  the  queen's  pace,  theirs  was  yet  slower.  Lupus  was 
quick  to  note  their  loitering,  and  when  presently  they  were 
lost  to  view  behind  a  turn  of  the  wild-grown  hedge,  he 
sought  to  bring  his  royal  mistress  to  a  halt. 

"  Pardon  me,  gracious  dame,"  he  said ;  "  is  it  seemly 
that  Lord  Olvir  and  the  maiden  —  " 

"  What  harm?"  interrupted  Hildegarde,  smiling.  "Are 
they  not  all  but  betrothed?  This  very  evening  Fulrad  will 
hear  them  plight  their  troth.  Come ;  one  would  think  you 
Had  never  loved." 

Lupus  looked  quickly  away,  and  drew  in  his  breath 
with  a  softly  hissing  sound.  Nor  was  he  the  only  one  hurt. 
Roland  groaned  aloud  and  struck  his  fist  upon  his  broad 
chest. 

"  Ah,  Roland  —  I  had  forgot !  "  exclaimed  Hildegarde. 
159 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  warrior's  stern-set  face  relaxed,  and  he  smiled 
sadly. 

"  God  double  my  brother's  joy !  "  he  said. 

And  so  the  three  passed  on  to  where  the  young  folk 
were  playing  May  games  around  the  fountain. 

Meantime,  the  lovers  had  more  than  loitered  on  the 
way,  —  they  had  come  to  a  full  stop. 

The  moment  Fastrada  perceived  that  the  queen  and 
her  companions  were  hidden  by  the  foliage,  she  put  a 
hand  to  her  bosom,  and  exclaimed :  "  Hold,  Olvir.  I  have 
dropped  the  brooch  you  gave  me.  It  must  have  been  at 
the  last,  when  we  started." 

"  I  will  run  fetch  it,  sweetheart,"  replied  Olvir,  readily. 

"  And  leave  me  here  alone !  I  would  sooner  lose  the 
clasp.  Let  us  return  together.  I  have  good  tidings,  which 
the  queen  left  for  me  to  tell  you." 

"  Come,  then ;  we  '11  go  back.  Now,  dear  one,  what 
are  your  good  tidings?" 

"  Wait  a  little,  my  hero.  Tell  me  first  of  your  meet- 
ing with  Count  Rudulf,  my  father,  and  with  my  —  my 
mother." 

Olvir  half  frowned,  and  drew  a  little  apart,  as  he  re- 
called his  encounter  in  the  wild  beech  forest. 

"  What  are  your  tidings  ?  "  he  insisted. 

The  girl  glanced  up  at  him  with  a  look  which,  though 
of  but  a  moment's  duration,  brought  out  with  startling  dis- 
tinctness her  resemblance  to  the  grisly  old  forest  count. 
Then  her  scarlet  lips  parted  in  a  smile  that  showed  her 
strong  white  teeth,  and  she  replied  slowly :  "  I  bend  to  the 
bidding  of  my  lord.  Know,  then,  that  our  lord  king  desires 
the  company  of  his  daughter  on  his  southward  war-faring, 
and,  that  the  princess  may  not  be  lonely,  he  has  asked  the 
queen  to  choose  her  a  journey-mate  from  among  the  bower- 
maidens." 
_ -fc-. _, 160 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  The  king  takes  the  little  vala  on  such  a  war-faring ! 
and  you,  of  all  the  queen's  maidens,  are  chosen  to  go  — 
By  Loki,  there  are  tales  of  Pepin's  son!  Were  I  sure — - 
Ah !  that  boding  of  the  ,witch,  —  her  own  mother !  " 

"  You  speak  in  riddles,"  said  Fastrada,  sharply. 
"What  of  my  mother's  boding?" 

"  No  good  word  to  you  and  me,"  replied  Olvir ;  and  he 
told  briefly  of  the  meeting  with  the  old  count  and  his  witch 
wife.  As  he  spoke,  his  scorn  of  spells  and  evil  bodings 
came  back  to  him,  and  he  cast  off  the  doubt  which  had 
fallen  upon  his  heart.  But  when,  smiling  at  his  foolish 
fear  and  jealousy,  he  glanced  down  at  the  maiden,  he 
caught  a  glimpse  of  her  eyes,  green  and  narrow-lidded  as 
her  father's.  They  were  still  green  when  the  girl  met  his 
look  full-faced,  and  asked  in  a  sibilant  voice :  "  You  are  sure 
—  my  mother  —  she  said  a  king  —  one  grey  of  eye?" 

"  And  I  am  neither!  "  muttered  Olvir.  "  Yet  were  she 
twice  your  mother,  I  'd  laugh  at  such  witchery." 

But  Fastrada  turned  from  her  lover's  smiling  look. 
She  paused,  and  gazed  down  at  the  weed-grown  ash-heap 
at  her  feet,  her  eyes  again  narrowed  to  a  line. 

A  sudden  chill  fell  upon  Olvir.  If  the  maiden  truly 
loved  him,  why  should  she  stand  pondering  that  wild 
foretelling?  Half  angered,  he  glanced  away,  and  his  eye 
was  caught  by  a  glinting  in  the  grass.  He  went  ahead,  and 
found  the  missing »brooch. 

"  Here  is  your  clasp,  daughter  of  Rudulf,"  he  said 
coldly. 

Heedless  of  his  tone,  Fastrada  took  the  ornament,  and 
stared  fixedly  at  the  garnets  with  which  it  was  studded. 

"  The  queen's  gems  are  far  more  precious,"  she  mur- 
mured, half  aloud. 

"I  will  win  you  the  like,  maiden,"  answered  Olvir, 
quickly,  but  his  frown  deepened. 


XX 


161 


»v 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


For  a  while  Fastrada  made  no  response.  Her  eyes 
were  still  downcast,  and  her  face  was  dark  with  doubt  and 
inward  struggle. 

"  At  —  my  mother,"  she  at  last  whispered ;  "  not  often 
do  her  bodings  fall  amiss!  Yet  once  I  knew  the  fiends  to 
fail  her—  Ah,  if  —  " 

The  words  faltered  on  the  girl's  lips,  and  she  glanced 
up  furtively  at  her  lover.  But  at  sight  of  his  look  she 
started  back  with  a  stifled  cry. 

Olvir's  face  was  white  as  new  ivory,  and  his  eyes  glit- 
tered like  an  angry  snake's. 

"  So,  witch-daughter,"  he  lisped  softly  as  a  young 
child,  "  this  is  your  Frank  love.  It  is  a  merry  game  to 
play  fast  and  loose,  —  a  merry  game!  It  seems  that  I 
fared  to  Rhine  Stream  on  my  lord  king's  errand,  —  both  as 
to  father  and  daughter.  '  A  king,  grey  of  eye  '  —  and  he 
has  chosen  you  to  go  as  mate  for  —  his  daughter.  So ;  the 
game  is  played!  We  will  accept  your  mother's  boding; 
we  will  trust  to  her  fiends." 

"Olvir,  Olvir!  —  my  hero!  What  is  this?  Why  do 
you  speak  so  cruelly?  Ah,  do  not  shrink  from  me!  I  was 
mad  —  mad!  Truly,  I  love  you,  Olvir!  I  will  never  love 
another.  Take  me  back  —  into  your  heart !  " 

"You  mistake,  daughter  of  Rudulf,"  replied  Olvir,  a 
harder  note  in  his  lisping  voice.  "  My  heart  held  the  image 
of  a  maiden  pure  and  true;  you  have  shattered  that  holy 
image.  How  can  I  hold  love  in  my  heart,  when  you  have 
thrust  in  doubt?  Love!  You  say  you  love  me,  when 
you  could  stand  for  an  instant  weighing  my  love  against  a 
queen's  crown  —  love !  " 

His  voice  cut  like  a  lash.  The  girl  winced,  and  looked 
appealingly  into  his  face.  But  she  saw  only  contempt  and 
anger.  Then  her  own  eyes  hardened.  The  daughter  of 
grey  Rudulf  and  the  Wend  witch  was  not  one  to  repay 

162 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

scorn  with  a  smile.  The  very  excess  of  her  passion  for  the 
Northman  served  now  to  heighten  her  fury  and  hatred. 
As  she  turned  upon  him,  her  beautiful  features  were  dis- 
torted with  a  look  more  startling  than  the  wolfish  visage 
of  her  father. 

"Love!"  she  cried,  half  hissing  the  word.  "You 
speak  of  love,  —  you,  the  heathen  outlander!  This  stone 
beneath  my  feet  knows  more  of  love  than  you!  Your 
blood  is  but  ice,  —  salty  ice !  Take  your  ring,  and  begone ! " 

"Now  do  I  see  the  werwolf!"  muttered  Olvir,  and, 
flinging  down  Fastrada's  ring,  he  trod  his  own  into  the 
ashes  and  turned  away,  proud  and  angry-eyed. 


163 


CHAPTER  XVII 


What  hath  wrought  Sigurd 
Of  any  wrong-doing 


That  the  life  of  the  famed  one 
Thou  art  fain  of  taking? 

LAY  OF  BRYNHILD. 

ITE  with  fury,  Fastrada  yet 
stood  glaring  at  the  spot  where 
Olvir  had  disappeared,  when  she 
heard  a  firm  tread  on  the  other 
side.  As  she  looked  about,  she 
caught  a  glimpse  of  Roland  ap- 
proaching through  the  coppice. 
Her  first  impulse  was  to  spring 
away  before  the  king's  kinsman 
could  come  upon  her.  But  al- 
most at  the  first  step  she  paused  and  turned  again,  with 
a  smile  of  wolfish  joy. 

When  Roland  burst  from  the  thicket,  the  girl  came 
running  to  meet  him,  her  silken  dress  torn,  her  hair  capless 
and  dishevelled,  her  face  blotched  with  earth. 

"  Save  me !  Save  me,  lord  count !  "  she  gasped.  "  In 
the  name  of  your  mother,  do  not  let  him  harm  me ! " 

"What  is  it?  Who  would  harm  you?"  demanded 
Roland,  in  amazement. 

But  the  girl  flung  herself  on  the  ground  before  him, 
sobbing  and  moaning,  and  for  a  while  it  seemed  as  though 
she  could  not  speak.  The  sight  of  her  at  his  feet  stirred  to 
the  depths  all  the  love  and  pity  of  the  Frank's  heart.  He 
stooped  and  sought  to  lift  her;  but  she  shrank  from  his 
touch,  and  hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 

164 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  Leave  me !  "  she  moaned.  "  I  had  forgotten ;  not  to 
you  can  I  look  to  avenge  my  wrong." 

"  Wrong !  "  he  repeated,  and  his  blue  eyes  flared.  "  By 
my  sword,  I  swear,  daughter  of  Rudulf,  I  will  avenge  your 
wrong.  Name  the  man." 

Fastrada  ceased  her  sobbing,  and  half  raised  herself. 
With  one  hand  still  across  her  face,  she  whispered 
brokenly :  "  He  sought  to  —  Ah,  I  cannot  name  it !  but 
you  came,  and  he  fled.  He  is  —  he  was  the  man  I  loved  — 
I  trusted." 

"Olvir!  —  my  brother?"  cried  Roland,  and  he  stag- 
gered as  though  struck.  For  a  moment  he  stood,  white  and 
rigid,  in  an  agony  of  doubt.  But  Fastrada's  keen  wits  were 
sharpened  by  hate. 

"  O  my  hero !  my  dark-eyed  hero ! "  she  moaned. 
"Why  should  you  wrong  your  betrothed?  Why  seek 
to  harm  the  maiden  who  loved  you  so?" 

"  Where  did  he  go?  "  gasped  Roland.  A  terrible  anger 
had  seized  upon  him.  His  face  was  crimson  with  rage, 
his  eyes  bloodshot.  Even  as  he  spoke,  he  drew  the  heavy 
Norse  sword  at  his  side,  and  when,  with  head  averted,  the 
girl  pointed  behind  her,  he  rushed  away  like  a  berserk  in 
the  fury. 

Instantly  Fastrada  sat  up  to  listen,  her  narrowed  eyes 
dry  and  hot,  her  face  white,  her  lips  drawn  away  from  the 
teeth  in  two  blood-red  lines.  She  was  so  intent  on  follow- 
ing Roland's  headlong  flight  that  Duke  Lupus  glided  out 
of  the  coppice  and  gained  her  side  unheeded.  With  all  his 
subtlety,  the  Vascon  did  not  lack  courage;  but  he  could 
not  restrain  a  shudder  when  he  saw  the  look  on  the  girl's 
face.  He  crossed  himself  hastily,  and  would  have  slipped 
back  to  the  coppice,  had  not  Fastrada  turned  and  perceived 
him.  For  a  little  the  two  glared  at  each  other.  Fastrada 
was  first  to  speak. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"Spy!  "she  hissed. 

But  Lupus  had  recovered  from  his  first  superstitious 
dread.  Unheeding  the  scornful  term,  he  bent  eagerly  for- 
ward and  half  whispered :  "  I  am  not  blind,  maiden.  You 
burn  for  vengeance.  Who  has  wronged  you?  Tell  me!  I 
can  aid." 

Fastrada  shook  her  head  sullenly;  but  her  fury  was 
too  great  to  be  repressed. 

"  Vengeance !  "  she  cried  fiercely.  "  You  speak  truth ; 
I  thirst  for  vengeance !  Nothing  will  quench  my  thirst  but 
the  heart's  blood  of  that  false  heathen.  The  base  outlander 
sought  my  shame." 

"  Holy  saints !  "  cried  Lupus,  in  affected  horror.  But 
Fastrada  saw  the  ironical  smile  which  flitted  across  his 
face,  and  she  knew  that  he  had  not  been  deceived.  She 
drew  back  her  head  and  watched  him,  like  a  snake  whose 
way  is  barred.  The  duke's  face  instantly  assumed  a  look 
of  deepest  significance,  and  he  extended  a  white  hand. 

"  Let  me  be  your  friend,"  he  urged.  "  I  also  have 
wrongs  to  avenge.  Join  with  me  and  my  friends.  We  will 
aid  you  gladly." 

"  Already  my  wolf-hound  follows  the  warm  trail,"  re- 
joined Fastrada,  and  she  laughed  shrilly. 

"  Roland?  " 

The  girl  rocked  to  and  fro,  her  hands  clasped  about  her 
knee. 

"  The  sword-brothers  meet  with  bared  swords !  "  she 
cried,  and  again  she  broke  into  the  terrible  laugh. 

"  And  if  the  Frank  falls?  "  demanded  Lupus. 

"  May  each  prove  the  other's  bane !  " 

"  My  heart  to  that !  Yet  the  Dane  is  quick.  Roland 
alone  may  fall;  then  you  will  need  aid.  Join  us.  If  we 
succeed,  I  know  a  duke  who  will  give  you  a  queen's 


crown. 


166 


.-;     f 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  A  queen's  crown  —  a  queen's  crown,"  muttered  Fas- 
trada,  and  she  pressed  a  hand  over  her  eyes.  "  What  was 
the  word,  —  my  mother's  word?  Ay;  a  king  —  " 

"  How 's  that,  maiden?  What  has  your  mother  fore- 
told?" 

"  I  shall  wed  a  king  —  a  king  grey  of  eye." 

The  pale-grey  eyes  of  Lupus  sparkled. 

"  A  true  boding !  The  Merwing  shall  win  back  the 
throne  of  his  forefathers,  and  you  shall  be  his  queen.  I 
shall  rule.  Throne  and  queen,  the  alruna  —  the  witch- 
wife  —  forebodes  it !  " 

"  Let  that  be  as  it  may,"  muttered  Fastrada ;  "  only 
show  me  the  corpse  of  that  cold-blooded  outlander,  and  I 
do  your  bidding." 

"  Then  we  should  see  how  your  hound  has  fared," 
replied  Lupus,  and  the  girl  sprang  up  to  follow  him  into 
the  thicket. 


167 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


Such  doings  for  us 

Are  naught  seemly  to  do; 

To  rend  with  sword 


Oaths  once  sworn 
And  troth  once  plighted. 
LAY  OF  SIGURD. 


VEN  in  the  heat  of  battle,  never 
had  Roland  known  the  wild  fury 
that  raged  in  his  breast  as  he 
crashed  through  the  thickets  in 
search  of  his  foster-brother.  His 
headlong  rush  failed  to  soothe 
the  anguish  of  Fastrada's  poi- 
soned shaft;  and  with  the  pain 
his  anger  grew  more  terrible. 
The  thought  of  the  maiden  lying 
before  him  in  piteous  abasement,  and  a  savage  fear  that 
the  betrayer  of  her  love  might  escape,  alike  spurred  him 
on.  The  outlander  was  fleet  of  foot ;  he  must  run  swiftly 
if  he  would  overtake  him.  But,  no !  there  was  the  wretch, 
beyond  the  wild-grown  hedge. 

Olvir  stood  in  a  little  glade.  His  face  was  bowed,  and 
his  dark  eyes  were  dull  and  glazed  with  agony.  Grief 
and  despair  almost  beyond  endurance  distorted  his  face 
and  shook  his  body  with  racking  sobs.  He  had  loved  the 
beautiful  Thuringian  with  all  the  passion  of  his  fiery  East- 
ern nature,  with  all  the  tender  reverence  of  his  Norse 
blood  and  rearing.  Had  death  torn  her  from  him,  he  could 
have  bowed  to  the  will  of  the  Norns.  But  that  his  be- 
trothed should  have  proved  false ! 

"  I  cannot  bear  this  longer ! "  he  muttered,  and  his 
168 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


hand  grasped  the  dagger  in  his  belt.  But  he  hesitated,  the 
weapon  half  drawn. 

"Woman's  love  is  not  all  of  life,  —  I  have  yet  my 
brother,"  he  said ;  and  the  dagger  clicked  back  in  its  sheath. 

It  was  then  that  Roland  burst  from  the  thicket. 

"  Ward  yourself,  wretch !  "  he  roared ;  and  the  great 
Norse  sword  whirled  about  his  head. 

With  the  instinctive  readiness  of  his  outlaw  uprearing, 
Olvir  sprang  aside  and  tore  Al-hatif  from  its  sheath.  As 
swiftly,  he  wheeled  to  confront  his  maddened  assailant; 
and  then  he  realized  who  that  assailant  was. 

"  Roland ! "  he  cried,  and  he  flung  his  sword  to  the 
ground. 

The  act  checked  the  Frank's  attack.  Even  at  the  height 
of  his  rage,  he  could  not  strike  down  his  foe  unarmed. 

"  Ward  yourself !  ward  yourself,  that  I  may  slay  you 
in  fair  fight !  "  he  cried  hoarsely. 

Olvir  only  folded  his  arms  and  gazed  unflinchingly 
into  the  Frank's  face. 

"  The  troth  of  a  woman,  —  the  oath  of  a  Frank !  "  he 
said  coldly.  "  To  my  sword-brother  I  gave  my  father's 
sword  to  cleave  my  own  head.  It  would  seem  that  Iron- 
biter  is  fated  to  prove  my  bane." 

Roland  lowered  his  sword,  and  leaned  heavily  upon  it, 
his  great  body  trembling. 

"  Take  up  your  blade ;  defend  yourself !  "  he  gasped. 

Olvir  saw  how  his  face  whitened  with  anguish;  but 
his  own  only  grew  the  more  bitter,  and  his  voice  stung 
with  relentless  irony :  "  What  hinders  the  Christian  from 
smiting  the  heathen,  —  the  Frank  from  stabbing  his  friend  ? 
He  is  but  an  outlander.  Strike,  and  have  done." 

"  O  my  God,  my  God !  "  cried  Roland,  and  the  scalding 
tears  ran  down  his  cheeks.  The  Northman  trembled,  yet 
his  face  lost  none  of  its  hardness. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  How  is  this?  "  he  said,  "  My  friend  is  weary.  He 
would  have  me  do  the  deed  myself.  Say  the  word,  foster- 
brother,  and  I  fall  on  my  own  sword." 

Roland  opened  his  lips ;  but  the  only  sound  that  came 
from  them  was  a  groan.  With  slow  and  awkward  fingers 
he  put  back  his  great  blade  into  its  sheath.  Vainly  he  tried 
again  to  speak ;  his  tongue  refused  to  obey.  He  could  no 
longer  endure  the  Northman's  look.  He  turned  and  went 
away  like  one  in  a  daze,  staggering  in  his  walk. 

Olvir  watched  him  go,  without  a  shade  of  softening  in 
his  hard  stare;  nor  did  he  move  until  the  bowed  figure  of 
the  Frank  was  lost  to  view  in  the  coppice.  Then  he  lifted 
his  sword  from  the  ground ;  a  kiss  for  its  mirror  blade,  and 
the  point  was  at  his  breast.  Already  he  was  bending  to  fall 
upon  it,  when  a  smothered  cry  in  the  thicket  caught  his 
quick  ear. 

"  What 's  that?  "  he  muttered,  and  he  stood  listening. 
All  was  silence.  His  eye  returned  to  the  sword.  How  the 
bright  hues  played  on  the  polished  steel!  The  red  stone 
burned  like  a  gout  of  blood  from  the  heart  of  fiery  Surt. 
How  fiercely  its  red  light  had  shone  in  battle  —  in  battle ! 
Thor!  he  could  hear  the  arrows  whistling,  the  joyous 
clash  of  swords! 

The  black  eyes  flashed.  He  whirled  the  sword  about 
and  grasped  its  hilt  in  fierce  delight. 

"  There  's  joy  yet  in  Manheim,  —  wild  play  in  Odin's 
game ! "  he  cried ;  and  again  he  kissed  the  blade.  "  Al- 
hatif!  Al-hatif!  king  of  swords!  You  would  have  slain 
me,  —  even  as  that  other  friend ;  yet  you  shall  still  be  my 
friend,  —  henceforth  my  only  friend  and  love !  " 

But  the  words  choked  in  the  utterance.  Grief  and 
bitterness  poured  back  into  his  heart  in  full  flood.  He 
threw  himself  upon  the  ground,  and  lay  face  down.  An 
hour  passed  before  he  rose  again.  His  face  was  calm,  but 

170 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

there  were  new  lines  on  it.  The  last  trace  of  boyhood  was 
gone.  He  sheathed  Al-hatif,  and  stood  for  a  little  while, 
staring  moodily  before  him. 

"  So,"  he  murmured,  "  love  and  friendship  are  dead ; 
and  I  —  I  had  my  part  in  the  slaying.  Would  that  I  had 
been  less  harsh  with  him  —  ay,  and  with  —  her !  Ah,  well ; 
what  is  past  is  past.  Let  Urd  hold  the  bitter ;  I  '11  look  to 
Skuld.  And  now  to  go.  I  cannot  face  those  merry  ones." 

Half  sighing,  the  Northman  turned  into  the  coppice 
and  disappeared.  A  little  later  he  stepped  out  on  the  river's 
bank  into  the  midst  of  the  wassailing  oarsmen,  and  spoke 
a  word  in  Floki's  ear :  "  Take  joy !  I  've  seen  your  wer- 
wolf's teeth.  I  go  downstream  afoot." 

Before  Floki  could  reply,  Olvir  stepped  back  into  the 
thicket,  and  was  gone.  The  other  vikings,  intent  upon 
their  black  mead,  had  scarcely  glanced  up  at  their  earl. 
But  Floki  for  some  time  sat  staring  at  the  spot  where  Olvir 
had  vanished,  his  brows  bent  in  deep  thought.  At  last  his 
frown  relaxed,  and  he  smiled  grimly. 

"  All 's  well,"  he  muttered.  "  Grief  will  pass.  I  see 
a  fairer  bride." 

As  though  the  words  had  been  a  spell,  hardly  were 
they  uttered  when  Rothada  appeared  before  the  speaker. 
Floki's  jaw  dropped.  But  then  he  caught  sight  of  Gerold 
behind  the  girl,  and  rose  to  meet  them.  The  young  count 
looked  at  him  gravely,  and  pointed  to  the  boats. 

"  Make  ready  at  once,"  he  said.  "  The  queen  would 
return.  She  comes  now." 

Floki  uttered  a  word  of  command;  and  while  the 
grumbling  wassailers  manned  the  oars  he  kept  a  sharp  eye 
on  the  approaching  party.  There  was  no  more  merriment 
to  be  heard  among  the  young  Franks.  Even  the  royal 
children  were  sobered.  Hildegarde,  who  was  leaning 
heavily  upon  Roland's  arm,  looked  both  grieved  and 

171 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


harassed.  Close  after,  between  Lupus  and  young  Worad, 
walked  Fastrada,  with  drooping  body  and  pale,  downcast 
face.  Last  of  all,  behind  the  whispering  pages  and  bower- 
maidens,  came  Liutrad,  apart  from  the  others. 

Roland  seated  the  queen  and  the  children,  as  before, 
in  his  boat;  but  Fastrada  passed  by  Olvir's  boat  with  a 
shudder.  As  she  accepted  Worad's  silent  invitation,  Hilde- 
garde  looked  up  and  spoke  half  hesitatingly :  "  How  of  — 
Lord  Olvir?  " 

"  Let  his  boat  wait,"  suggested  her  brother. 

"  No,"  put  in  Floki,  curtly. 

"Why  not?"  demanded  Roland,  and  he  leaned 
toward  the  tall  giant,  frowning. 

"What  use,  when  he  has  gone?"  rejoined  Floki. 

"  You  've  seen  him ! "  exclaimed  Liutrad. 

"  Ay,  lad." 

"  What  did  he  say,  man?  "  asked  Worad,  sharply. 

Floki  eyed  the  questioner  with  a  cold  stare ;  but  then, 
smiling  in  a  peculiar  way,  he  answered  dryly :  "  The  earl 
bade  me  take  joy." 

"  Take  joy!  — why  take  joy?  "  asked  the  queen. 

Floki  fixed  his  stare  upon  Lupus  and  the  drooping 
Fastrada,  and  stood  muttering  to  himself.  But  he  made  no 
response  until  Roland  repeated  the  inquiry.  When  he 
turned  and  saw  the  anxiety  of  both  queen  and  count,  his 
look  lost  its  coldness;  but  he  shook  his  head. 

"  There  are  others  here  who  can  best  answer  that,"  he 
said.  "  If  they  will  not  speak,  go  ask  the  earl.  Ho,  all ! 
to  your  benches !  Cast  off,  men !  " 

Roland's  troubled  face  darkened  yet  more;  but,  with- 
out protest,  he  grasped  the  steer-oar  of  his  boat.  Floki 
stepped  into  the  place  of  his  absent  leader,  and  the  boats 
thrust  out  from  the  shore  with  the  saddened  merrymakers. 


172 


JKziv 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Manful  they  march  by  mountain  dales, 
Stout  of  heart  o'er  the  stony  cliffs, 
As  far  as  run  the  roads  before  them, 

Once  built  by  giants. 

ANDREAS. 

AWN  of  the  day  of  marching 
found  the  vikings  drawn  up  on 
the  south  bank  of  the  Garonne; 
but  Zora  stood  at  the  head  of 
their  column,  without  a  rider. 
Olvir  had  lingered  for  a  last 
word  with  the  Frisians  and  dis- 
abled Danes  who  had  been  left 
as  ship-watch.  With  the  first 
glimpse  of  the  sun,  he  was  step- 
ping aboard  his  waiting  boat,  when  Gerold  rode  down  the 
bank  in  company  with  Amalwin  the  Saxon. 

Both  eyed  the  sea-king  coldly,  and  Gerold  hastened  to 
be  done  with  his  message :  "  Count  Hardrat  has  ad- 
vanced with  the  horse;  after  him  march  the  Austrasian 
levies.  You  will  follow." 

Olvir's  dark  face,  which  at  first  had  warmed  with  a 
smile  of  welcome,  hardened  at  the  curt  command. 

"  Your  king  gave  me  pledge  of  the  front,"  he  said. 
"  I  should  at  least  follow  the  horsemen." 

"  You  will  follow  where  his  Majesty  commands," 
rejoined  Count  Amalwin. 

Olvir  glanced  from  the  Saxon  to  his  dragon-ships, 
moored  along  the  bank,  and  drew  himself  up  haughtily. 

173 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


U£ 

I 


"  Will !  "  he  retorted.  "  By  Thor,  I  go  where  I  choose, 
fellow !  If  it  please  me,  I  take  ship  and  leave  Frank  Land ; 
let  your  Frank  king  command !  " 

"  Do  so !  "  growled  Amalwin.  "  The  land  were  well 
rid  of  such  an  outland  wooer!  Men  call  my  forest  folk 
barbarous;  but,  heathen  though  they  be,  they  hold  pure 
maidens  in  honor." 

"  No  less  do  I ! "  cried  Olvir,  hotly.  "  He  who  says 
else,  lies!" 

"  It  is  well,  Dane,  I  fare  Rhineward,  and  you  to 
Saracen  Land.  Would  that  Rudulf  had  broken  your 
heathen  back !  "  cried  the  Saxon,  and  he  shook  his  clenched 
fist  at  Olvir. 

The  Northman's  eyes  glittered,  and  he  smiled. 

"  Come,"  he  lisped.  "  There  is  no  better  time  than 
now.  I  will  meet  you  singly,  or  together." 

"Holy  Mother!"  protested  Gerold.  "Why  should 
we  fight,  Olvir?  The  maiden  weeps,  and  Roland  is  like 
a  bear  in  the  springtime;  but  — " 

"But  all  listen  to  the  tale  of  the  Wend  witch's 
daughter,"  added  Olvir,  bitterly. 

"We  would  hear  you  speak,  hero.  The  maiden  says 
nothing.  Only,  Lupus  —  " 

"Lupus!  Let  that  fox  look  to  his  crooked  tongue! 
When  the  daughter  of  Rudulf  speaks,  I  will  answer.  Until 
then  my  sword  speaks  for  me." 

Count  Amalwin  bent  forward,  with  an  altered  look. 

"  You  speak  rashly,  young  man,"  he  said ;  "  but  your 
eye  is  clear,  and  —  Lupus  has  a  crafty  wit.  I  doubt  if 
you  are  so  greatly  in  the  wrong  as  he  hints  in  his  twisted 
talk." 

"  Believe  as  you  choose,"  said  Olvir.  "  I  have  had 
enough  of  Frank  love  and  Frank  troth.  In  the  North  we 
are  not  so  hasty  to  put  shame  upon  a  man.  Now,  if  you 

174 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

are  not  minded  to  sword-play,  I  have  only  to  weigh 
anchor." 

"  By  the  fiend  Odin !  "  growled  Amalwin ;  "  you  are  a 
proud  blade,  even  for  Otkar's  fostering.  Hear  me;  I  am 
of  a  mind  with  Gerold,  and,  —  a  friend's  word  in  your  ear, 
—  if  you  come  Rhineward,  look  that  you  shun  the  Grey 
Wolf  and  his  mate." 

"  My  thanks  for  the  warning,"  said  Olvir,  coldly.  "Yet 
it  is  needless.  I  sail  homewards.  Your  king  has  broken 
troth." 

"No,  Olvir,"  interrupted  Gerold;  "the  king  keeps 
troth.  I  myself  heard  the  command  given.  Your  band  is 
chosen  for  the  king's  shieldburg.  At  the  Pyrenees  you  will 
be  called  to  the  front." 

"  So !  by  the  King  of  Skalds,  that  is  another  tune," 
replied  Olvir,  and  he  turned  to  the  Saxon  with  a  quick 
smile.  "  Sharp  words  have  passed,  —  it  may  be  mine  were 
sharpest ;  but  none  should  look  for  other  than  snarls  from 
a  baited  bear." 

Amalwin's  scarred  face  unbent  in  an  answering  smile, 
and  he  extended  his  hand. 

"  If  wrong  has  been  done,"  he  said,  "  you  are  not  the 
one  at  fault.  I  trust  we  may  meet  again  as  battle-mates. 
We  are  used  to  duller  feathers  over  Rhine;  yet  I  stand 
ever  ready  to  welcome  one  who  could  throttle  the  Grey 
Wolf,  whether  he  wear  silk  or  hide." 

"  It  may  be  I  shall  again  see  your  forests.  Until  then 
farewell,  lord  counts." 

"  Farewell,"  replied  Amalwin,  and  he  rode  off  up  the 
bank.  But  Gerold,  instead  of  following,  sprang  to  the 
ground. 

"What  now,  lad?"  asked  Olvir. 

"  I  have  yet  to  see  Liutrad.  Abbot  Fulrad  wishes  him 
to  aid  Worad  with  the  lettering.  The  abbot's  scribe  is  to 

175 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

stay  behind  with  Hildegarde.    But  first,  I  would  ask  your 
pardon  for  my  coldness." 

"  Say  no  more.  Older  heads  have  been  misled.  As 
to  Liutrad,  if  he  wish  it,  he  is  free  to  aid  Fulrad  until 
there  is  need  of  his  axe.  I  will  send  him  soon.  Now, 
farewell." 

"  Stay  a  little,  hero !  "  exclaimed  Gerold,  and  he  caught 
the  Northman's  arm.  "  Before  you  go,  will  you  not  tell  me 
what  came  between  you  and  the  maiden?  Your  sword- 
brother  goes  about  heavily.  Give  me  a  word  to  lighten 
his  trouble." 

Olvir  gazed  into  the  pleading  face  of  the  queen's 
brother,  and  seemed  about  to  speak.  But  then  his  look 
hardened,  and  he  stepped  aboard  the  waiting  boat,  cold  and 
haughty. 

"  I  have  no  word  to  send  the  Count  of  the  Breton 
Mark,"  he  said.  "  Let  him  come  and  ask  for  himself. 
Thrust  off,  men." 

Gerold  mounted  and  rode  off  to  Casseneuil,  greatly  dis- 
appointed that  his  appeal  had  failed.  Yet  his  heart  was  far 
lighter  than  when  he  came,  for,  like  Amalwin,  he  was  con- 
vinced that  the  subtle  insinuations  of  Duke  Lupus  had  no 
foundation  in  truth.  His  greatest  desire  was  to  tell  all  to 
Roland ;  but  when  he  reached  Casseneuil  he  found  that  the 
count  had  just  left  by  boat  for  Bordeaux,  in  company  with 
Lupus.  So  he  had  to  content  himself  with  telling  his  con- 
victions to  his  sister. 

All  was  confusion  at  the  villa.  The  king  had  already 
taken  leave  of  wife  and  children,  and  was  riding  off,  with 
half  the  court  in  his  train,  Rothada  and  Fastrada  among 
the  others.  Gerold  could  have  wished  to  join  the  gay 
company;  but  he  had  to  ride  in  hot  haste  to  overtake  his 
command,  —  the  contingent  of  wild  mountaineers  sent  by 
the  haughty  but  weak  Tassilo,  Duke  of  Bavaria. 
176 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Like  a  swarm  of  giant  locusts,  the  Frankish  host  had 
risen  from  about  Casseneuil  and  passed  over  the  Garonne. 
Before  midday  the  rearguard  had  left  the  valley,  and  the 
entire  host  was  sweeping  across  Vascon  Land  toward  the 
Pyrenees. 

The  march  over  the  thorny  sand-plains  of  the  Landes 
and  down  the  valley  of  the  Adour  was  so  directed  as  to 
intersect  the  old  Roman  way  which  ran  from  Bordeaux 
across  the  mountains  to  Astorga,  in  the  little  kingdom  of 
Alfonzo  the  Goth.  Profiting  by  this  useful  relic  of  the  one- 
time world-rulers,  the  thousands  of  Northern  buskins  trod 
the  ancient  road  with  quickened  step,  and  rapidly  drew 
near  the  outlying  spurs  of  the  Pyrenees. 

The  last  halt  made  before  the  attempt  to  cross  the 
barrier  was  in  the  valley  of  the  Little  Nive,  where,  after  the 
cork  forests  and  sterile  marshes  of  the  Landes,  the  intense 
verdure  appeared  like  a  carpet  of  green  velvet  flung  over 
upland  and  meadow. 

Horse  and  foot  alike  made  the  most  of  their  rest  in  the 
pleasant  dale,  for  the  morning  promised  a  march  that 
would  try  the  strength  of  the  sturdiest.  Many  gazed  upon 
the  wild  rampart,  the  shadow  of  whose  peaks  fell  early 
across  their  camp,  with  thoughts  which  boded  greater  mis- 
fortune than  mere  journey  toil,  and  around  the  fires  that 
night  the  old  tale  was  told,  how,  in  days  gone  by,  the  host 
of  King  Dagobert  the  Merwing  was  beset  in  this  very  pass 
by  the  fierce  mountain  Vascons,  and  routed  with  great 
slaughter. 

But  when  the  bluff-spoken  Hardrat  ventured  to  re- 
mind Karl  of  his  predecessor's  disaster,  the  king  passed 
off  the  omen  with  a  laugh,  and,  in  turn,  reminded  the 
Thuringian  how  Roland  had  come  fresh  from  Lupus,  bear- 
ing heartiest  assurances  of  the  duke's  service  and  friend- 
ship. Anselm,  the  astute  judge,  noted  the  furtive  look 

12  I' 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

which  passed  between  Fastrada  and  Hardrat  at  this;  but 
the  others  gathered  no  more  from  the  incident  than  the 
knowledge  of  the  king's  confidence.  They  spread  the  story 
throughout  the  camp,  and  by  break  of  day  the  faintest- 
hearted  in  the  host  was  strong  for  the  advance. 

In  the  delightful  freshness  of  early  morning,  while  the 
first  sun-rays  sparkled  on  the  dewdrops,  Hardrat's  horn 
brayed  the  marching  note.  From  all  sides  of  the  royal 
pavilion  the  heavy  Frankish  horse  gathered  and  formed 
in  column,  five  thousand  strong,  —  ponderous  steeds, 
backed  by  riders  whose  leathern  cuirasses  were  banded 
with  long  iron  plates.  Some  wore  rude  armlets  and  thigh- 
pieces.  Slow  and  unwieldy  in  their  massive  strength,  these 
horsemen  were  none  the  less  formidable.  So,  at  least,  the 
Saracens  had  found,  when  on  the  plains  of  Touraine  wave 
after  wave  of  the  swift-rushing  Moslemah  had  dashed 
forward,  to  shatter  on  the  rock-like  wall  of  the  Franks. 

The  king,  mounted  upon  a  powerful  white  stallion  and 
backed  by  the  brightly  clad  retinue,  surveyed  the  horse- 
men with  his  clear  gaze,  and  nodded  to  their  waiting  com- 
mander. At  once  Count  Hardrat  spurred  to  the  front  of 
the  riders,  and  the  long  column,  breaking  into  a  trot,  thun- 
dered away  up  the  valley.  As  the  rearmost  troop  passed 
the  pavilion,  the  king  turned  to  Count  Worad  with  a  half- 
frown. 

"  Where  are  the  Danes?  "  he  demanded.  "  You  had 
word  to  bid  them  be  at  hand." 

The  young  man's  delicate  face  paled,  but  he  answered 
steadily :  "  Count  Gerold  bore  the  command,  your  Majesty, 
when  he  rode  to  join  his  Bavarians." 

"  And  I  had  need  of  my  scribe,  sire,"  explained  Fulrad. 

"But  the  Danes?    We  wait." 

"They  come,  lord  king,"  said  Liutrad;  and,  as  he 
spoke,  the  viking  band,  half  a  thousand  strong,  wheeled 

178 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


into  view  around  a  coppice,  to  the  accompaniment  of 
merrily  clinking  steel  and  the  flashing  of  sunlight  on 
polished  war-gear.  Their  appearance  was  met  by  shouts 
of  admiration  from  the  Prankish  lords;  but,  without  an 
answering  cry,  they  swung  into  the  dusty  road  and  formed 
into  column,  grim  and  silent.  Then  Olvir,  all  steel  and 
gold  from  head  to  thigh,  rode  forward  on  Zora,  and  raised 
his  burnished  shield  in  salute. 

"  Greeting,  my  Dane  hawk,"  said  Karl.  "  You  come 
busked  as  for  battle." 

"  We  think  it  time  for  war-gear,  lord  king,"  replied 
Olvir;  and  he  glanced  from  the  group  of  silken-vestured 
officials  to  the  heights  of  the  Pyrenees. 

Karl  nodded  approvingly.  "  It  is  well.  Our  safety  is 
now  in  your  keeping.  Hereafter,  the  Austrasians  follow 
us." 

Olvir  flushed,  and  his  eyes  sparkled.  He  saluted  again 
with  upraised  shield,  and  answered  earnestly :  "  By  my 
sword,  lord  king,  you  shall  not  rue  your  choice  of 
shieldburg!" 

"  That  I  can  well  believe.  I  have  not  forgotten  how 
your  fierce  sea-wolves  bend  to  my  little  maid." 

"  She  holds  them  with  a  fetter  strong  as  the  bond  of 
the  Fenris-wolf,"  replied  Olvir,  and  he  looked  across  to 
where  Rothada,  in  her  mule-litter,  was  assuring  herself  as 
to  the  comfort  of  Fastrada's  tiring-woman  and  of  her  own 
maid,  both  of  whom  were  perched  upon  a  heap  of  baggage 
in  a  rude  cart. 

Two  gaudily  attired  pages  were  fluttering  about  the 
little  princess,  eager  to  render  her  service.  Olvir  smiled, 
then  set  his  jaw  sternly.  A  second  mule-litter  had  appeared 
from  behind  the  cart,  and  its  occupant  was  gazing  at  him 
with  a  strange  look  of  shame  and  aversion,  and  yet  of 
entreaty.  Though  love  lay  dead  in  Olvir's  heart,  the  Thu- 

179 


CHRIST 


ringian's  look  moved  him  deeply.  Already  his  eyes  were 
softening,  when  their  side-glance  caught  the  moody  gaze 
of  Roland.  He  stared  back  at  the  count,  and  drew  himself 
up  with  a  haughty  smile.  As  he  turned  again  to  Fastrada, 
he  found  her  glaring  at  him  with  all  the  hatred  that  had 
distorted  her  face  in  the  garden.  She  had  mistaken  his 
scornful  movement  as  meant  for  herself. 

The  swift  exchange  of  glances  passed  in  the  few 
moments  that  Karl  was  speaking  to  Abbot  Fulrad.  Before 
Olvir  had  time  for  second  thought,  the  king  turned  back  to 
him,  smiling :  "  Now,  my  Dane  hawk,  Abbot  Fulrad  takes 
the  child  into  the  midst  of  your  warriors.  We  lend  her  to 
them  in  place  of  yourself.  For  a  while  you  will  ride  at  my 
side." 

"  You  honor  both  leader  and  men,  lord  king,"  replied 
Olvir;  and  he  wheeled  Zora  to  the  side  of  the  white 
stallion. 

Instantly  Roland  lifted  the  royal  standard,  and  the 
silver  trumpet  of  Eggihard  the  High  Steward  sounded 
the  advance.  Into  the  road,  behind  Karl  and  the  North- 
man, flocked  the  throng  of  priests  and  officials,  with  no 
small  degree  of  bustle  and  confusion.  But  the  noise 
of  their  starting  was  soon  drowned  in  the  roars  of  de- 
light with  which  the  vikings  greeted  their  little  vala. 
The  king  looked  down  at  his  road-mate,  and  nodded 
approvingly. 

"That  is  a  welcome  shout,"  he  said.  "I  have  not 
done  ill  to  choose  your  heathen  wolves." 

"  Otkar  would  have  named  them  trustworthy  in  that 
they  are  heathen." 

"  And  what  would  he  have  said  of  Kasim,  your  Saracen 
kinsman?  "  rejoined  Karl.  "  Is  not  he,  too,  a  pagan?  Yet 
how  of  the  arrow  you  gave  me?  I  have  cleared  the  mys- 
tery. It  is  a  Saracen  shaft." 

1 80 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"May  Hel  grip  the  poisoner!"  muttered  Olvir,  fiercely. 
But  he  restrained  his  anger,  and  continued  in  a  calm  tone, 
"  Let  my  lord  king  say  what  is  in  his  mind.'* 

"  You  are  keen,  lad !  This,  then  —  you  have  just  cause 
for  anger  against  your  younger  kinsman.  Yet  I  have  need 
of  him.  He  is  ruler  of  Pampeluna,  which,  I  am  told,  is  the 
strongest  burg  in  the  land  of  the  Navarrese ;  and  more,  — 
he  shares,  in  a  measure,  the  influence  of  his  wife's  father 
over  the  Count  of  Saragossa." 

Olvir  glanced  up  at  the  expectant  face  of  the  king. 

"  Your  Majesty  would  have  me  forgo  my  vengeance," 
he  said. 

"  For  a  time,  at  least.  Such  a  man  is  but  a  sprung 
stave  to  lean  upon;  but,  if  it  be  to  his  own  gain,  he  may 
give  good  service.  Until  Barnard,  my  uncle,  joins  us  at 
Saragossa  with  the  second  host,  much  hangs  on  the  friend- 
liness of  this  poisoner." 

"  Let  the  dog  go  to  Hel,  Loki's  daughter,  his  own 
way ;  only,  give  me  the  forefront  of  battle ! "  cried  Olvir, 
his  eyes  bright  and  nostrils  quivering. 

The  king  smiled  in  approval. 

"  Saint  Michael !  "  he  exclaimed ;  "  I  long  to  see  you 
in  sword-play,  kin  of  Otkar !  The  fosterling  lacks  nothing 
of  the  hero's  fire,  yet  none  could  differ  more  in  body. 
You  must  favor  your  mother's  kin;  your  hair  alone  is 
of  the  North.  Heul  I  remember  your  father,  as  of  yes- 
terday,—  a  grand  warrior,  leaping  upon  us  through  the 
alders.  Though  bigger,  he  was  much  such  a  man  as 
Roland." 

"  Roland! "  echoed  Olvir;  and  involuntarily  he  glanced 
about. 

Karl  noticed  the  movement,  and  a  question  sprang  to 
his  lips :  "  You  're  at  outs  with  your  sword-brother.    Why 
have  you  wrangled?    The  quarrel  grieves  me." 
181 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"Not  you  alone,  lord  king!  Yet  am  I  a  hare?  He 
came  upon  me  with  bared  sword  —  " 

"You  fought?" 

"  No.    He  was  raging ;   but  I  cast  down  my  sword." 

"  And  he  would  not  strike,  —  my  sister's  son !  But  his 
anger—?" 

"  The  daughter  of  Rudulf  and  I  broke  troth ;  why,  I 
will  not  tell,  —  let  men  think  what  they  may.  Roland  met 
her.  I  do  not  know  what  she  told  him ;  but  he  came  upon 
me  like  a  berserk." 

"  No  doubt  the  maiden  was  angry,  and  in  her  anger 
may  have  overstepped  the  truth.  A  word  may  set  Roland 
right  and  heal  your  quarrel." 

"  Let  him  ask,  then !  He  has  broken  blood-troth.  He 
is  the  one  to  salve  the  hurt." 

For  some  moments  Karl  regarded  the  young  North- 
man's haughty  face  with  impassive  gravity.  When  at 
length  he  broke  the  silence,  his  gaze  shifted  to  the  jewelled 
Al-hatif. 

"  Yours  is  a  gay  sword,"  he  observed. 

"  No  less  a  keen  blade,"  muttered  Olvir. 

"  It  shall  soon  test  the  Saracen  mail.  May  it  spur 
Abd-er- Rahman  into  the  sea!  Christ  conquers;  the 
heathen  hosts  shall  flee  before  his  warriors." 

The  king  paused,  and  looked  upwards  into  the  blue 
sky,  his  face  aglow.  After  some  little  time  his  gaze 
returned  to  Olvir. 

"Listen,  kin  of  Otkar,"  he  said;  "this  is  my  war- 
scheme:  Barnard,  my  uncle,  marches  around  by  way  of 
Narbonne.  He  will  leave  men  to  hold  the  burgs  of  our 
allies  in  the  northeast  quarter  of  the  old  Goth  realm,  thus 
hedging  in  Septimania  from  counter-attack.  At  Saragossa 
we  join  hosts,  cross  the  Ebro  with  our  Saracen  allies,  and 
march  south  against  the  great  burg  called  Toledo.  If  that 

182 


*^ 

^yyA 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

burg  falls  before  Abd-er- Rahman  comes  to  battle  for  his 
kingdom,  we  strike  yet  farther  south  at  Cordova,  his  chief 
burg  and  royal  seat;  while  Ibn  Habib,  the  kinsman  of 
Kasim,  crosses  over  from  Africa  to  harry  in  the  rear  of  the 
Saracen  lion,  —  so  Al  Arabi  and  Kasim  have  given  pledge. 
Now,  what  does  my  Dane  hawk  say?  The  Saracen  folk 
cannot  stand  before  us  in  battle.  That  was  proven  by  my 
father's  father.  It  is  a  fiery  land ;  yet  the  war  will  be  brief. 
Behind  us  is  the  support  of  our  pagan  allies  and  the  Chris- 
tian mountaineers;  what  can  defeat  us?" 

"  Treachery." 

"  True.  But  of  that  I  have  no  fear,  —  even  from  Count 
Kasim.  The  Saracen  king  has  hunted  him  like  a  wolf  and 
slain  his  kinfolk." 

"  There  is  yet  the  Vascon,"  remarked  Olvir,  dryly. 

"  Him !  "  rejoined  Karl.  "  The  Merwing  hound  dare 
not  yap  at  my  cold  shoe.  In  the  early  years  of  my  king- 
ship he  gave  over  to  me  his  own  kinsman,  Hunold  of 
Aquitania,  at  the  first  threat.  Enough  of  such!  Now  I 
would  speak  with  Roland ;  afterwards  with  Abbot  Fulrad." 

Olvir  saluted,  and  wheeled  Zora  about.  The  act 
brought  him  face  to  face  with  Roland,  riding  alone  at  the 
head  of  the  retinue.  The  count  met  his  glance  with  a 
troubled  look ;  but  Olvir  passed  by,  and  signed  to  Liutrad. 

"  Tell  Lord  Roland  the  king  would  speak  with  him," 
he  said. 

The  merry  young  giant  nodded,  and,  without  a  blink 
of  surprise  at  the  transference  of  the  message,  spurred 
forward  on  Gerold's  last  gift,  —  a  heavy  horse  of  Prankish 
breed. 

Olvir  reined  Zora  aside  and  waited  for  the  retinue  to 
pass.  His  intention  was  to  fall  back  among  his  own  men, 
as  far  away  as  possible  from  his  one-time  brother  and  his 
one-time  love.  But  while  he  rode  with  the  king,  Abbot 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Fulrad  had  brought  Rothada  forward  to  rejoin  her  maiden 
companion.  A  glimpse  of  the  little  princess  staring  at  him 
from  her  litter  in  round-eyed  wonderment  altered  Olvir's 
purpose. 

Regardless  alike  of  the  cold-eyed  courtiers  and  Fas- 
trada's  hateful  smile,  he  guided  Zora  in  among  the  retinue 
until  she  paced  beside  Rothada's  litter.  He  met  the  dubi- 
ous look  of  Abbot  Fulrad  with  an  easy  smile. 

"  The  king  would  speak  with  you,  lord  priest,"  he  said, 
and  as  the  white-haired  churchman  urged  his  mule  forward, 
Olvir  bent  gravely  over  Rothada. 

"  How  is  the  little  vala?  "  he  asked. 

"  Very  well,  Lord  Olvir.  Is  it  not  joyous  to  be  on  our 
way  to  the  crest  of  those  mighty  fells?  But  I  forget.  They 
tell  me  I  should  not  speak  with  you.  Are  you  so  very 
wicked,  Lord  Olvir?  " 

The  Northman  turned  like  a  panther  suddenly  at- 
tacked, and  cast  at  Fastrada  a  glance  of  such  terrible  anger 
that  all  her  hate  could  not  withstand  its  menace.  But  as 
she  shrank  from  him,  Olvir  burst  into  a  laugh  of  careless 
scorn. 

• "  This  is  a  wicked  world,  little  cloister-dove,"  he  said. 
"  Yet  be  assured,  —  you  can  trust  your  heathen  friends, 
though  I  cannot  say  as  much  for  those  who  call  themselves 
followers  of  the  White  Christ." 

"  I  'm  glad,  Lord  Olvir !  I  could  hardly  believe  you  'd 
harm  me.  Of  my  dear  vikings  I  had  no  fear  at  all,  though 
some  mock  at  them  as  heathen.  If  only  they  were  not! 
Yet  they  are  very  good  to  me,  and  I  love  them  all." 

"  Even  me ! "  suggested  Olvir,  and,  with  a  boyish 
laugh,  he  tossed  a  small  ring  into  the  girl's  lap.  "  You 
shall  be  my  may." 

"  But  I  Ve  no  ring  to  give  in  turn,"  she  replied 
seriously. 

xl 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  A  lock  of  your  hair  will  be  as  welcome." 

Rothada  took  the  dagger  which  he  held  out,  and  cut  a 
thick  tress  from  her  chestnut  hair. 

"  Braid  it,"  said  Olvir ;  and  the  girl  obediently  plaited 
the  tress  in  a  broad  strand.  Olvir  took  the  gift  solemnly, 
and,  winding  it  twice  about  his  neck,  over  the  gold  collar  of 
his  mail,  secured  the  ends  together  with  a  double  clasp. 

"  Now  I  'm  your  thrall,  king's  daughter ;  for  I  wear 
your  bond,"  he  said. 

"  A  collar,  earl,  that  should  not  chafe  even  the  pride  of 
a  sea-king,"  remarked  Liutrad,  who  had  fallen  back  to  the 
opposite  side  of  Rothada's  litter.  Olvir  smiled  into  his 
honest,  ruddy  face. 

"  Well  said,  lad;  for  it 's  the  gift  of  a  true  heart,"  he 
replied,  and  he  cast  a  piercing  glance  at  Fastrada.  But  the 
Thuringian,  though  within  ear-shot,  gave  no  sign  that  she 
either  saw  or  heard.  She  was  surrounded  by  a  group  of 
favorite  admirers,  who  crowded  about  her  litter,  enjoying 
at  the  same  time  her  beauty  and  her  subtle  wit.  In  whole- 
some dread  of  Olvir's  quick  ear,  the  maiden  said  nothing 
against  him ;  but  the  hostile  feeling  of  her  companions  was 
apparent  in  their  shrugs  and  glances. 

To  this  Olvir  did  not  pay  the  slightest  heed.  Liutrad, 
however,  took  the  matter  more  to  heart.  With  boys  like 
the  pages  such  unfriendliness  might  be  excusable.  But 
Worad,  notwithstanding  his  girlish  face,  was  a  learned 
count  and  skilled  warrior,  and  during  Olvir's  Rhine  jour- 
ney he  had  not  only  enjoyed  the  hospitality  of  the  viking 
camp,  but  had  pledged  friendship  with  Gerold  and  Liutrad. 
Of  all  which  Liutrad  grumbled  to  his  earl  across  the  litter, 
until  Rothada  and  Olvir  joined  in  laughing  him  into  his 
usual  good-humor. 

The  road  had  now  plunged  into  a  vast  forest  of  beech 
and  oak,  and  through  the  vistas  Olvir  pointed  out  to  his 
185 


I 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

companions  the  glittering  white  crest  of  Mount  Altobiscar, 
toward  which  they  were  steadily  ascending. 

Gradually  the  wooded  spurs  of  the  great  barrier  closed 
in.  The  way  became  narrow  and  steep.  Lofty  cliffs,  whose 
crannies  were  green  with  hardy  box,  towered  above  the  in- 
vaders. Oaks  and  beeches  were  giving  place  to  firs.  High 
in  the  genial,  sunny  air  other  peaks  than  Altobiscar  thrust 
up  their  jagged  snow-crests. 

Nearer  and  nearer  the  mountain  towered  above  the 
narrow  road,  until  the  vanguard  of  the  invaders  could  look 
directly  up  at  the  glittering  summit,  five  thousand  feet 
above  them.  Slowly  horsemen  and  footmen  wound  through 
the  wild  gorges  of  Ibafieta,  whose  savage  grandeur  over- 
awed all  others  than  the  Bavarians  and  the  mountain-bred 
warriors  of  the  North.  For  them  the  dizzy  cliffs  and  crags 
served  only  to  stir  pleasant  memories  of  their  own  rugged 
lands.  But  the  Prankish  dwellers  of  forest  and  plain  gazed 
about  them  half  fearfully,  well  assured  that  such  gloomy 
cliffs  and  jagged  heights  must  be  the  abode  of  malevolent 
kobolds  and  scrats,  if  not  of  dragons. 

No  trace  of  man  other  than  the  old  Roman  way  was  to  be 
seen  in  the  pass.  Nature  here  ruled  alone  in  one  of  her  wild- 
est moods.  From  their  eyries  on  the  crags  of  Altobiscar, 
eagles  swooped  down  to  view  the  invaders,  and  their  screams 
echoed  weirdly  through  the  gorge,  above  the  dull  tramp  of 
hoofs  and  buskins  and  the  clink  and  ring  of  war-gear. 

All  Rothada's  delight  had  now  given  place  to  dread  of 
the  echoes  and  the  savage  scenery,  and  she  would  have 
wished  herself  back  on  the  peaceful  Garonne,  had  not  Olvir 
set  about  diverting  her  attention  by  jests  and  droll  tales. 

So,  without  sign  of  opposition  or  danger,  the  host 
poured  down  through  the  ominous  gorge,  to  enjoy  the 
well-earned  rest  in  the  dewy  valley  below. 


186 


S£# 


'// ti 


CHAPTER  XX 


Lest  they  fare  thither 

With  whistling  spears, 

War  to  wake  'gainst  the  king. 

SONG  OF  ATLI. 


their  camp  among  the 
beech  and  chestnut  woods  of 
Roncesvalles,  the  invaders  di- 
rected their  march  across  the 
mountain  spurs  and  down  the 
valley  of  the  Zubiri,  between 
hills  clad  to  the  summit  with 
beech  and  ash.  The  land  was 
•andly  beautiful;  yet,  with 
all  its  magnificence,  even  the 
vikings  hailed  with  joy  the  distant  walls  and  towers  of 
Pampeluna. 

Word  was  passed  back  along  the  great  serpent  line  of 
warriors  winding  down  out  of  the  mountains,  and  all 
pressed  forward  with  renewed  vigor,  that  they  might  pitch 
camp  near  the  burg  of  the  Navarrese.  The  rearguard  had 
need  of  haste  to  win  this  end,  for  the  sun  was  already  half 
down  the  sky  when  Hardrat's  horsemen  deployed  on  the 
bank  of  the  Arga,  opposite  Pampeluna. 

Close  at  the  heels  of  the  horse  came  the  royal  guard  of 
vikings,  whose  long  limbs  kept  them  with  ease  in  the  wake 
of  the  riders.  They  did  not  halt  upon  the  river's  bank,  but 
followed  the  king  and  his  retinue  across  the  stream  to  the 
foot  of  the  height  upon  which  rose  the  walls  of  the  burg. 

18' 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  battlements  were  crowded  with  a  swarm  of 
Christian  townfolk,  interspersed  with  groups  of  swarthy 
warriors,  whose  chain-mail  and  wide  turbans  told  of  the 
Saracen  domination.  All  were  gazing  across  at  the  ingather- 
ing host  of  Northerners,  —  the  dreaded  Franks,  famed  alike 
among  Christian  Navarrese  and  Moslem  Moors  for  rapacity 
and  fierceness.  It  was  as  though  the  sheep  had  called  in  the 
wolf-pack  against  the  shepherd.  In  profound  silence  the 
townfolk  stared  at  the  horde  of  their  skin-clad  allies,  and 
from  the  depths  of  their  hearts  sent  up  a  wordless  prayer 
that  the  peril  might  pass  them  by. 

Karl  gazed  up  steadily  at  the  closed  gate  of  the  burg 
and  at  the  silent  watchers  above. 

"By  my  father's  sword,  this  is  cold  greeting,"  he 
muttered. 

"  We  have  marched  swiftly,  sire,"  suggested  Count 
Anselm.  "  May  it  not  be  that  Count  Kasim  is  taken  un- 
awares by  your  coming  ?  " 

"  He  will  do  well  not  to  wait  for  our  knock,"  said  Karl, 
grimly.  "  So!  here  is  ground  more  level.  Halt !  Raise  the 
standard." 

Roland  unfolded  the  banner,  and  pushed  forward  to  the 
left  of  the  king,  while  behind  the  two  the  courtiers  spread 
out  in  line  to  right  and  left,  all  eager  to  see  and  hear  what 
should  follow. 

At  the  word  to  halt  Liutrad  had  wheeled  about,  bear- 
ing a  command  from  Olvir ;  and  the  vikings,  as  they  came 
up,  opened  out  their  ranks  wider  than  the  line  of  the 
Franks.  Karl  turned  in  his  saddle  and  looked  inquiringly 
from  the  warriors  to  their  leader.  But  the  expression  of 
the  Northman's  face  cleared  away  his  doubt.  There  was  a 
smouldering  fire  in  Olvir's  eyes  as  he  watched  for  the  ap- 
pearance of  his  kinsman,  but  the  stern  lines  of  his  mouth 
told  of  perfect  self-control. 

1 83 


Jral      if*v( 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  king  turned  to  Eggihard. 

"  Wind  your  horn,"  he  commanded.  "  We  shall  see  if 
these  Southland  folk  are  dumb." 

But  as  the  steward  raised  his  silver  trumpet,  a  great 
mass  of  Saracen  spearmen,  with  Vali  Kasim  in  the  lead, 
burst  from  a  grove  not  two  bow-shots  away,  and  swooped 
down  upon  the  royal  party  in  wild  disarray,  screaming  and 
yelling  like  madmen,  and  urging  their  swift  horses  to  the 
utmost  speed. 

Karl,  who  had  been  forewarned  as  to  the  Saracen  cus- 
tom of  honoring  a  superior  by  feigned  attacks,  wheeled  his 
horse,  and  gazed  calmly  at  the  approaching  whirlwind  of 
riders.  But  there  was  one  among  his  liegemen  who  lacked 
his  faith  in  the  blinking  vali. 

Hardly  had  the  Moslems  burst  from  their  covert  when 
Olvir  stood  up  in  his  stirrups  and  made  a  sign  to  his  vik- 
ings. The  response  was  a  deep  muttering  roar,  that  merged 
into  the  clash  and  tread  of  rushing  warriors.  Before  the 
Franks  could  comprehend  the  movement,  they  found  them- 
selves in  the  heart  of  the  viking  wedge,  fenced  about  by  a 
sevenfold  line  of  warriors.  At  the  point  of  the  wedge  they 
could  see  the  Norse  sea-king  on  his  red  mare,  calmly  facing 
the  charge  of  the  turbaned  spearmen;  while  beside  him 
stood  Floki  the  Crane,  smiling  in  grim  anticipation  as  he 
balanced  his  terrible  halberd.  Behind  them,  Liutrad  loos- 
ened the  great  axe  in  his  belt,  and  plucked  a  dart  from 
the  sheaf  which  he  grasped  with  the  staff  of  his  earl's 
banner. 

The  Saracens  were  within  a  bow-shot,  and  coming  like 
the  wind,  —  lances  levelled,  scimetars  brandished,  and  bur- 
nouses flying,  —  when  Olvir  drew  Al-hatif  and  raised  the 
blade  overhead.  Instantly  a  rustling,  tinkling  sound  swept 
over  the  wedge  behind  him.  Slingers  raised  their  slings; 
bowmen  notched  their  arrows. 

189 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Then  the  king's  voice  rang  out  like  a  trumpet :  "  Hold, 
men,  on  your  lives !  Down  with  your  weapons !  " 

But  the  vikings  looked  to  their  earl.  The  blade  still 
glittered  above  his  bright  figure,  and  they  stood  waiting, 
heedless  of  the  Frank. 

"  By  the  King  of  Heaven !  "  swore  Karl ;  only  to  pause 
and  stare  with  his  courtiers.  At  a  word  from  Olvir,  Liu- 
trad  had  sent  a  dart  curving  high  through  the  air.  The 
missile  flashed  down  and  stuck  upright  in  the  dry  ground, 
over  a  hundred  paces  distant.  Fifty  yards  farther,  it  would 
have  fallen  upon  the  head  of  Kasim  Ibn  Yusuf. 

Whatever  had  been  the  purpose  of  the  Arab,  he  saw 
how  fully  the  Northern  giants  were  prepared  to  meet  him, 
and  he  understood  on  the  instant  the  menace  of  the  dart. 
The  shaft  was  yet  quivering  from  its  fall  when  he  flung  up 
his  hand  and  uttered  a  piercing  cry. 

A  hundred  voices  caught  up  the  wild  note  and  shrieked 
it  back  to  their  owner's  swiftly  following  fellows.  Up  went 
the  levelled  lance-tips,  sinewy  hands  drew  hard  on  the 
bridle-reins,  and  the  mass  of  flying  horsemen  came  to  a 
halt  within  the  space  of  a  few  yards. 

As  the  Saracens  came  to  a  stand,  Karl  forced  a  way 
through  the  close-set  ranks  of  the  vikings,  his  cheeks 
flushed  and  eyes  flashing  angrily. 

"Way!"  he  commanded.  "Ho;  aside,  men!  Give 
heed,  Lord  Olvir!" 

Olvir  half  wheeled  Zora  and  faced  the  angry  king  as 
the  white  stallion  leaped  clear  of  the  foremost  vikings. 
For  a  moment  Karl  glared  down  on  the  Northman,  his 
powerful  features  stern  with  the  dark  menace  of  offended 
majesty.  Olvir,  who  had  looked  only  for  praise  of  his  ready 
defence,  drew  himself  up,  and  met  the  king's  stare  with  a 
bitter  smile. 

Look  and  bearing  alike  goaded  Karl  to  fury.  He 
190 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

grasped  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  and  his  great  body  quivered. 
But  the  spasm  passed.  He  bent  forward  and  said  coldly: 
"  How  is  this,  Dane?  Neither  you  nor  your  followers  give 
ear  to  my  command/' 

"Does  the  stooping  hawk  heed  the  lure?"  rejoined 
Olvir,  as  coldly.  "  You  chose  us  for  shieldburg,  lord  king. 
As  such  —  " 

"Answer  me,  by  Saint  Michael!  Would  you  have 
struck  my  ally?" 

Olvir's  black  eyes  flashed  defiance  straight  into  the 
eyes  of  the  king. 

"By  Thor!"  he  cried.  "By  Thor  and  the  White 
Christ!  Had  Kasim  my  kinsman  charged  past  yonder 
spear,  he  and  a  host  of  his  swart  hounds  should  have 
fared  hence  to  Loki's  daughter!" 

Karl's  brows  met  over  the  long,  arched  nose,  and  his 
nostrils  quivered.  But  the  last  word  rang  in  his  ear, — 
daughter!  daughter!  Suddenly  he  found  himself  regarding 
the  affair  from  an  entirely  different  point  of  view.  Had 
not  the  young  Dane  good  cause  to  mistrust  the  Saracen? 
Was  he  not  charged  with  the  safety  of  his  king  and  of  all 
the  royal  party,  —  officials  and  unarmed  priests,  —  above 
all,  the  maidens  ? 

Olvir  was  not  slow  to  heed  the  sudden  return  of  friend- 
liness which  lighted  the  king's  face ;  but  his  own  retained 
its  gloom.  He  was  sore  to  the  heart  with  the  injustice 
which  had  been  done  him.  Karl  perceived  his  bitter  look, 
yet  reached  out  his  hand,  and  the  Northman  could  not  do 
other  than  take  it.  Holding  fast  the  slender  fingers  in  his 
great  palm,  the  king  turned  in  his  saddle  and  called  aloud : 
"  Hearken,  my  liegemen !  Before  all,  I  give  thanks  to  Lord 
Olvir,  who  most  ably  has  proved  his  charge.  If  any  had 
doubt  as  to  the  trueness  of  our  guard,  they  may  now  feel 
assured." 

191 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  No  longer  may  any  doubt !  "  cried  Roland,  spurring 
forward  through  the  viking  ranks. 

Olvir  glanced  about;  but  at  the  moment  the  royal 
standard  dipped  to  the  breeze,  and  he  failed  to  see  Roland's 
face.  He  turned  back  to  the  king  with  a  look  that  was 
grave  without  bitterness,  and  met  the  Frank's  parting  grip 
with  a  responsive  clasp. 


192 


CHAPTER  XXI 


O,  for  my  Sigurd 
I  shall  have  death, 


Or  my  fair,  my  lovely 
Laid  in  mine  arms. 

LAY  OF  SIGURD. 


a   sign   from   their   earl   the 
ings  opened  their  ranks  for 

^  9  the  Frank  lords,  who  came  push- 

S    W  ing   to   the   front,   followed   by 

£       [  the  curious  maidens.     As  Olvir 

•T  made  a  place  for  Rothada's  litter 

^       ^  close  in  the  rear  of  her  father, 

^  SJrVali    Kasim    rode    forward    in 

advance  of  his  band,  with  half- 
a-dozen  attendants. 
"Look,   Lord  Olvir!"  exclaimed  the  girl.     "What 
strange,  gay  warriors;    and  the  beautiful  horses!     The 
chiefs  is  like  your  Zora." 

"  Her  blood-kin,  —  the  swiftest  breed  in  all  Ara- 
bia," replied  Olvir,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  Kasim  Ibn 
Yusuf. 

But  the  Franks  were  more  interested  in  the  vali's 
attendants.  In  their  midst  the  Berbers  led  three  mules, 
two  of  which  were  burdened  with  packs,  while  the  third 
bore  an  unarmed  greybeard,  whose  yellow  gown  marked 
him  out  as  a  leech. 

At  a  dozen  paces  from  the  great  Karolah  the  vali  and 
his  followers  sprang  off  and  salaamed  to  the  dust;  and 
Kasim,  advancing,  cried  out  in  broken  Frankish :  "  Blessed 
be  the  day  that  I  behold  the  mighty  Karolah !  The  moun- 
13 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

tains  shake  at  the  tread  of  his  coming;  all  men  rejoice  to 
see  his  glorious  face ! " 

"  We  fail  to  hear  them,"  replied  Karl,  dryly ;  and  he 
glanced  up  at  the  silent  folk  on  the  battlements  of  the  burg. 

The  edge  of  Kasim's  green  turban  again  swept  the 
ground,  and  he  answered  readily :  "  Mute  with  awe,  the 
men  of  Pampeluna  gaze  upon  the  mighty  Sultan  of 
the  Afranj.  They  wait  for  him  to  speak  in  kindness. 
Then  will  his  faithful  slaves  rejoice." 

The  king's  face  relaxed  its  sternness.  "  It  is  well. 
What  have  you  here?  " 

"  The  lowly  gifts  of  a  slave,  who  would  lay  them  at 
the  feet  of  his  glorious  lord." 

"  Saint  John  the  Meek!  "  muttered  Karl,  and  he  made 
an  impatient  gesture.  "  Have  your  will,  man." 

The  leech  spoke  a  word  to  his  fellows,  who  led  the 
pack-mules  forward.  From  one  they  unloaded  and  set  out 
before  the  king  a  number  of  finely  wrought  silver  vases, 
packed  to  the  brim  with  precious  spices.  Costly  as  were 
these  gifts,  they  met  with  little  comment  from  the  Franks ; 
but  when  from  the  pack  of  the  second  mule  the  Berbers 
drew  off  roll  after  roll  of  gorgeous  silks,  none  could  restrain 
an  expression  of  admiration. 

Among  the  most  eager  to  view  the  silks  was  Fastrada ; 
and  her  cries  of  delight  as  Worad  led  her  litter-mules 
farther  forward  instantly  drew  upon  her  the  blinking  gaze 
of  Vali  Kasim.  Though  the  Arab  had  seen  her  but  once 
before,  —  at  the  royal  pavilion  on  the  Garonne,  —  he  re- 
membered her  perfectly.  He  now  stared  with  lustful  eyes 
at  her  soft  beauty. 

"  Look,  earl.  One  might  say  the  swart  kite  sees 
quarry;  he  has  ceased  blinking,"  observed  Liutrad,  in 
Olvir's  ear. 

"Let  him  beware,  then.  Once  a  kite  caught  up  a 
194 


> 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

weasel,  —  you  know  the  tale.    But  this  kite's  plumage  is 
not  to  my  liking." 

"How  so?" 

"With  an  Arab,  red  bodes  anger.  I  had  it  from 
Otkar." 

"  You  look  for  treachery?  " 

"  For  all  evil  from  one  who  shoots  viper  shafts.  This 
red  cloak  is  no  good  omen.  Yet  I  am  pledged  to  the  king 
to  hold  the  poisoner  in  peace." 

"  Floki  might  pick  a  quarrel  with  him.  I  myself 
would  as  lief  try  my  axe  on  his  swaddled  skull.  If  these 
swart  folk  fight  in  single  combat,  one  of  us  will  soon  make 
an  end  of  him." 

"  No,  lad ;  he  is  a  haughty  man.  He  might  fight  me, 
but  not  my  follower;  and  I  am  bound  by  my  word." 

"  Then  we  must  wait  and  watch." 

"  Ay,"  muttered  Olvir ;  and  he  stared  hard  at  Kasim, 
who,  being  addressed  by  the  king,  was  reluctantly  turning 
away  his  gaze  from  the  Afranj  maiden. 

When,  with  friendly  dignity,  Karl  had  acknowledged 
the  vali's  gifts,  he  turned  to  his  daughter  and  her 
companion. 

"The  Saracen  shall  see  how  we  of  the  North  honor 
women,"  he  said.  "  Take  up  the  silken  rolls  and  bring 
them  before  the  maidens.  When  the  child  has  made  her 
choice,  the  daughter  of  Rudulf  may  take  what  she  will." 

Both  girls  cried  out  their  delight,  and  Fastrada  met 
the  king's  smiling  look  with  a  glance  that  stirred  his  ardent 
nature  to  the  depths.  A  subtle  change  shadowed  his 
stately  features,  and  for  a  little  he  gazed  at  the  girl  as 
Kasim  had  gazed.  Her  eyes  fell  before  his ;  and  while  she 
yet  held  them  demurely  downcast,  Rothada's  voice  rang 
out  again  in  childish  delight.  Olvir  had  chosen  for  her 
a  white  silk,  embroidered  in  violet  and  gold. 

105 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

At  his  daughter's  cry,  Karl  turned  suddenly  about  in 
his  saddle  and  stared,  frowning,  at  the  walls  of  Pampeluna. 
The  blinking  vali  before  him  saw  his  lips  move,  and  caught 
the  words  which  he  muttered ;  but  only  Fulrad,  that  abbot 
learned  in  Holy  Writ,  might  have  divined  his  meaning,  — 
"He  that  ruleth  himself  is  greater  —  is  greater — !" 

Olvir,  though  so  watchful  of  his  Saracen  kinsman, 
noted  the  strange  look  on  the  king's  face.  But  then,  in 
common  with  the  greater  number  of  the  Franks,  his  atten- 
tion was  drawn  by  Fastrada.  Two  rolls  of  scarlet  silk 
already  lay  in  the  girl's  litter ;  yet,  not  content  with  these, 
she  had  seized  upon  a  gorgeous  purple.  Her  cry  of  grati- 
fied vanity  fixed  upon  her  the  looks  of  all  around. 

Most  maidens  would  have  drooped  their  heads  in 
modest  shame  at  thus  being  made  the  centre  of  obser- 
vation; not  so  the  Thuringian.  The  rich  coloring  of  her 
cheeks  heightened,  though  not  with  shame,  and  her  eyes 
sparkled  like  sapphires.  Waving  aside  the  attendants,  she 
unrolled  the  purple  silk,  and,  with  a  daring  glance  at  the 
king,  wrapped  herself  about  in  the  folds  of  the  imperial 
color. 

Many  of  the  Franks  cried  out  their  admiration  of  the 
maiden's  gracefulness ;  but  the  few  who  were  quick  enough 
to  perceive  the  audacious  allusion  of  her  act  took  good  care 
to  preserve  silence.  Karl,  however,  maintained  his  stern 
observation  of  the  city  battlements,  and  the  girl,  foiled  of 
her  expected  triumph,  shifted  her  attack  to  Olvir.  Here 
again  she  was  to  meet  with  disappointment.  The  young 
Northman  returned  her  half-defiant,  half-alluring  look  with 
an  indifferent  glance,  and  recalled  his  attention  to  Rothada. 

The  Thuringian's  cheek  paled.  She  let  the  folds  of  the 
purple  silk  slip  from  about  her,  and  bowed  forward  in  the 
litter,  with  hot  eyes  and  thin-drawn  lips,  deaf  to  the  mur- 
mured compliments  of  the  courtiers.  The  strong  white 

•  106 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


teeth  gleamed  between  her  tightened  lips,  and  soon  another 
look  than  suffering  stole  into  her  face. 

In  her  sudden  fury,  the  girl  raised  her  head  to  transfix 
the  Northman  with  her  glance;  and,  instead,  she  met  the 
solemn  gaze  of  Roland's  blue  eyes. 

From  the  giving  of  the  silks  to  this  decisive  moment, 
the  count  had  been  watching  her  every  look  and  action  with 
closest  attention.  Until  she  bent  her  head,  not  even  the 
slightest  change  in  her  expression  had  escaped  him.  And 
now,  his  gaze  sharpened  to  the  utmost  keenness  by  the 
intensity  of  his  feeling,  he  saw,  as  it  were,  the  girl's  dark 
troubled  soul  stand  out  bare  before  its  lovely  mask.  The 
Frank  shuddered,  and  crossed  himself  hastily. 

At  this  moment  the  king  suddenly  recalled  to  mind 
Vali  Kasim,  who  still  stood  bowing  before  him  with 
Oriental  obsequiousness.  He  smiled,  and  raised  his  hand. 
"  Again  we  render  thanks  for  your  gifts,  Count  Kasim." 

"  Bismillah  I  I  rejoice  that  my  glorious  lord  is  pleased. 
It  is  for  me  to  serve  him  in  all  things.  Therefore,  I  have 
brought  my  learned  geber,  Kosru  the  Magian,  to  make 
certain  that  your  Majesty  shall  enjoy  health  and  full 
strength  while  you  honor  our  land  with  your  gracious 
presence." 

"  Health ! "  repeated  Karl,  and  he  smiled  as  he  drew 
up  his  massive  figure.  But  then  his  glance  chanced  to  rest 
on  Rothada,  and  he  signed  to  the  Magian  to  join  the  royal 
suite.  "  It  is  well.  The  maidens  may  have  need  of  leech- 
craft  in  a  strange  land.  Our  chamberlain  will  have  com- 
mand to  make  fitting  return  for  your  gifts,  lord  count." 

"  It  is  not  for  gifts  I  ask,  most  gracious  sultan." 

"  What,  then?  "  demanded  Karl,  his  keen  grey  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  Saracen's  impassive  face. 

Kasim  salaamed  to  the  ground  before  replying.  "  My 
lord  and  sultan  is  gracious;  he  opens  my  lips.  Let  him 

197 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

not  be  offended.  I  have  said  that  the  people  of  my  city  are 
consumed  with  fear  of  the  mighty  Afranj;  they  tremble 
lest  the  fierce  giants  of  the  North  be  loosed  in  their  midst." 

"  So  —  you  would  have  me  forego  the  placing  of  my 
wardens  in  your  burg.  How  shall  it  be  held  when  all  your 
warriors  are  withdrawn?  " 

"  The  walls  are  high,  O  sultan.  The  townfolk  will  bar 
out  my  lord's  foes  and  my  foes.  Can  my  lord  doubt  that 
they  will  hold  fast  for  the  sultan  of  their  own  faith?  " 

"  How,  lord  vali,"  demanded  Anselm,  the  Count  Pala- 
tine ;  "  if  your  folk  are  so  friendly,  why  should  they  seek 
to  be  rid  of  us?  I  would  not  be  the  one  to  speak  of  mishap ; 
yet  here  is  bitter  truth,  sire :  Should  not  God  and  the  holy 
saints  give  your  Majesty  victory;  should  we  fare  home- 
ward, a  war-broken  host ;  would  these  timorous  Navarrese 
then  open  their  gates  to  give  succor;  or  would  they 
not  rather  seek  our  harm,  to  gain  favor  with  the  pagan 
king?" 

Kasim  smiled  blandly,  and  would  have  spoken  again, 
had  not  Karl  held  up  his  hand  for  silence.  For  a  little,  the 
king  gazed  at  the  thousand  and  more  Saracen  horsemen 
massed  together  in  dense  ranks  on  the  spot  where  they 
had  been  halted  by  the  cry  of  their  chief.  Then  he  glanced 
up  at  the  burg  on  the  height  and  back  to  the  little  maiden 
behind  him. 

"O  sultan  of  sultans  — "  began  Kasim;  but  again 
Karl  held  up  a  restraining  hand. 

"  I  cannot  grant  your  wish,  lord  count,"  he  said.  "  I 
must  hold  to  the  compact.  Count  Olvir,  you  will  guard 
this  stronghold  with  your  vikings,  and  Rothada  and  her 
companion  shall  remain  here  in  your  care.  It  had  been 
wiser  to  have  left  the  maidens  at  Casseneuil." 

Olvir  frowned  with  disappointment  at  this  unexpected 
turn  of  events. 

198 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  It  was  not  to  sit  behind  stone  walls,  lord  king,  that 
I  joined  your  host,"  he  protested. 

"  Yet  I  ask  it  of  you,  my  Dane  hawk,"  replied  Karl, 
gravely.  "  For  a  time,  at  least,  I  ask  you  to  shield  this 
little  maid,  who  is  more  precious  to  me  than  all  the  old 
Goth  realm." 

"  For  her  sake,"  muttered  Qlvir,  half  reluctantly. 

Karl  spoke  in  a  lowered  voice :  "  For  her  sake,  lad ! 
I  would  not  ask  the  service  but  for  her.  Would  that  I  had 
not  brought  her  across  the  mountains !  I  look  for  treason 
from  this  fawning  hound.  I  must  safeguard  the  maiden 
and  this  stronghold  at  all  cost." 

"  Enough,  lord  king ! "  exclaimed  Olvir.  "  I  give  you 
willing  service." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

Blithe  then  grew  the  breaker  of  rings. 

BEOWULF. 


EARLY  two  months  had  passed 
since  from  the  loftiest  tower  of 
Pampeluna's  citadel  Olvir  had 
watched  the  Prankish  warriors 
wind  away  across  the  green 
>lateau,  on  their  southward 
march  to  the  Ebro.  In  all  the 
dreary  weeks  of  waiting  no  tid- 
ings had  come  back  from  the 
invading  host,  —  not  a  word  to 
tell  whether  Karl  was  battling  for  the  old  Goth  realm  on 
the  Ebro's  banks,  or,  finding  Abd-er- Rahman  too  cautious 
to  encounter  him  near  Saragossa,  had  ventured  on  south 
to  Toledo  or  to  Cordova  itself,  in  search  of  the  fierce  but 
wily  old  Emir  of  Andalus. 

Whatever  might  be  the  truth  as  to  the  movements  of 
the  host,  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  trickery  was  rife  in 
its  rear;  for  Karl  most  certainly  had  sent  more  than  one 
messenger  northward,  and  death  or  capture  at  the  hands  of 
the  king's  Saracen  allies  could  alone  account  for  their  fail- 
ure to  bring  tidings  to  Pampeluna. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  month  Floki  was  for  taking  a 
score  or  so  of  men,  and  going  in  search  of  the  Franks ;  but 
Olvir  told  him  that  he  would  not  risk  one  man,  much  less 
a  score,  to  fall  into  the  traitors'  snare.  Instead,  he  set  about 
strengthening  the  defences  of  the  citadel,  and  levied  on  the 

200 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

townfolk  for  food,  until  the  storerooms  were  filled  to  over- 
flowing. The  old  Roman  cisterns  already  held  enough 
water  to  last  out  a  six  months'  siege. 

That  he  could  hold  the  citadel  against  all  comers  Olvir 
had  no  doubt ;  but  his  warriors  were  far  too  few  for  him  to 
man  the  burg  walls.  He  had  to  content  himself  with  a 
watch  at  each  gate  of  half  a  hundred  warriors,  who,  he 
planned,  could  hold  "their  posts  secure  against  any  chance 
band  of  the  enemy,  or,  in  the  event  of  an  attack  in  force, 
could  check  the  first  assault,  and  so  save  the  citadel  from 
the  possibility  of  a  surprise. 

In  his  vigilant  watch  over  the  safety  of  the  citadel,  the 
young  Northman  found  little  time  to  spend  in  the  society 
of  Rothada's  miniature  court.  Yet  it  was  not  seldom  that 
he  saw  the  little  princess;  for  she  often  sought  him  out 
with  the  complaint  that  Fastrada  was  closeted  with  the 
wizened  old  Magian  leech  whom  the  king  her  father  had 
left  to  care  for  her,  and  that  she  was  weary  of  playing 
with  the  pages  and  the  tiring-women. 

On  the  morning  of  the  day  which  opened  the  ninth 
week  of  waiting,  Olvir  came  riding  up  to  the  great  door  of 
the  citadel,  after  his  round  of  the  burg  gates,  and  as  he  dis- 
mounted in  the  shadow  of  the  archway,  smilingly  unlashed 
a  roll  of  cloth  from  his  saddle.  Then  he  beckoned  to  one  of 
the  door  wardens  and  said  briefly :  "  The  mare  frets  with  so 
much  stall-standing.  Take  her  for  a  run  across  the  Arga." 

Overjoyed  at  the  chance,  the  man  sprang  into  the 
saddle,  and  Zora  started  down  the  steep  path,  picking  her 
steps  daintily  but  with  a  quickness  that  showed  her  impa- 
tience at  the  restraints  on  coursing  within  the  burg. 

A  little  later  Olvir  climbed  out  upon  the  roof  of  the 
citadel's  main  tower,  the  roll  of  cloth  still  in  his  hand.  For 
a  while  he  swept  with  his  glance  the  neighboring  heights 
and  the  broad  harvest  fields  on  the  plain  below  the  burg. 

201 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


All  lay  calm  and  peaceful  in  the  hot  sunshine,  and  his  gaze 
turned  with  his  thoughts  to  the  cloth  in  his  hand.  Half 
smiling,  he  peered  within  its  folds,  and  began  to  pace 
slowly  to  and  fro  across  the  narrow  space  of  the  roof. 

"  By  the  hair  of  Sif !  "  he  chuckled,  "  I  '11  wager  it 's  a 
gift  to  delight  any  maid !  " 

But  his  pleasant  musing  was  cut  short  by  the  sound  of 
a  sibilant  voice  in  the  upper  room  of  an  adjoining  tower. 

"  Loki !  "  he  muttered.  "  Can  I  never  get  beyond  ear- 
shot of  that  woman?  " 

Frowning,  he  moved  over  to  the  farther  battlement, 
and  turned  his  face  away  toward  the  barren  fells  which  lay 
between  him  and  the  mysterious  South.  But  though  he 
sought  to  fix  his  thoughts  on  the  host  which  had  vanished 
behind  those  desolate  hills  and  crags,  he  could  not  shut  out 
the  sound  of  that  sibilant  voice  or  the  shrill,  cackling  an- 
swers of  Kosru,  the  old  Magian  leech. 

"  Of  a  surety,  man," — Fastrada  was  speaking, — "  you 
are  a  warlock  of  note.  Strange  you  have  already  wandered 
over  Rhine !  You  must  come  again,  and  farther,  —  to  my 
Thuringian  home.  My  mother  will  give  you  fair  welcome. 
Though  a  woman  of  the  roving  Wends,  she  is  skilled  in 
herbs  and  magic  spells.  At  her  bidding  the  storm-wind 
rises.  She  rules  the  forest  sprites,  —  kobolds  and  nixies,  — 
even  the  fiend-gods  of  the  Saxons." 

"  I  do  not  claim  to  rule  the  storm-wind,  maiden."  The 
leech's  voice  was  raised  in  shrill  protest. 

"  Yet  you  do  not  lack  knowledge  of  powerful  spells," 
came  back  the  quick  response.  "  Tell  me  again  of  that 
which  saved  you  from  the  wolves  in  Fulda  Wood." 

"  It  was  a  little  thing,  maiden,  for  a  geber  whose  learn- 
ing has  saved  the  lives  of  princes.  Yet  the  most  learned 
might  well  have  perished  in  the  fangs  of  those  fierce  chil- 
dren of  Ahriman.  Only  by  chance  did  I  have  the  magic 

202 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


drug  to  throw  behind  me  and  stay  them,  while  the  Jew  and 
I  fled  on  to  the  Christian  monastery." 

"  But  the  drug?    You  did  not  tell  me  —  " 

"  A  foul-smelling  resin  from  Arabia.  Others  than 
I  have  tested  its  charm  over  the  grey  demons  of  the 
forest.  It  will  stay  the  wolf-pack  on  a  hot  trail,  or 
draw  them  from  so  far  as  they  may  scent  its  odor. 
But  as  to  black  magic  — "  The  voice  of  the  leech  sank 
to  a  whisper. 

For  a  time  the  words  of  neither  speaker  were  audible. 
Then  Fastrada's  voice  vibrated  on  the  air,  sharp  and  dis- 
tinct: "How!  Even  the  Magian  chief?  Listen,  leech; 
stand  my  friend,  and  I  pledge  you  sure  gain  in  the  king's 
court.  My  word  carries  favor  among  his  lords." 

"  A  bargain,  maiden !  Help  me  to  a  fair  standing  in 
the  court  of  Karolah,  and  I  give  you  a  talisman  of  greatest 
potency,  —  a  ring  set  with  the  magic  stone  whose  hues 
shift  and  change  even  as  the  tints  of  your  eyes." 

"  Its  powers  — ?  " 

"To  the  weak  it  brings  destruction;  to  the  strong, 
honors  —  " 

"And  love?" 

"  Love,  if  already  he  does  not  love  another." 

"Another?  Then  I  am  safe!  He  will  come  back 
—  he  will  come  back  to  me!  Give  me  the  spell-stone, 
leech  —  now!  A  day  may  lose  all!  I  swear  to  befriend 
you!" 

"  I  do  not  doubt,  maiden.  But  the  ring  is  in  your  own 
land,  —  at  Metz  on  the  Moselle,  pledged  to  a  Jew  trader, 
Yusuf  Ben  Israel.  It  is  a  heavy  debt,  —  four  ounces  of 
gold." 

"  I  will  pay  it  gladly  for  such  a  ring.    Here  is  what  will 
win  the  spell-stone  from  the  greedy  Jew.  At  I  you  may  well 
eye  the  bright  clasp.    It  was  my  first  gift  from  him  I " 
203 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Olvir  sprang  up  from  his  seat  on  the  battlement  as 
though  stung. 

"  Loki !  "  he  muttered.  "  The  witch's  daughter  thinks 
to  creep  back  into  my  heart  with  the  aid  of  spells  and  evil 
craft.  I  have  wasted  my  pity.  Sooner  would  I  cherish  an 
adder  than  that  fair-faced  werwolf." 

He  turned  to  descend  out  of  ear-shot  of  the  sibilant 
voice,  only  to  pause  as  it  pierced  the  air  in  a  hissing  whis- 
per :  "  Hist,  leech !  Some  one  mounts  the  other  tower.  Let 
us  go  down." 

"  The  trolls  flee  before  the  light-elf!  "  murmured  Olvir, 
and  he  stepped  forward,  smiling,  as  Rothada  sprang  gaily 
into  view  up  the  last  steps  of  the  narrow  stairway.  In  a 
moment  she  was  beside  him,  her  face  raised  for  his  greet- 
ing. But  when,  instead  of  kissing  her  forehead,  Olvir  bent 
to  her  lips,  she  drew  back  with  a  startled  look,  and  a  faint 
blush  crept  into  her  cheeks. 

Never  had  the  little  maiden  appeared  so  winsome  as 
when  she  stood  thus,  half  shrinking  before  him,  overcome 
by  a  shyness  whose  source  was  a  mystery  to  her  child  mind. 
In  her  play  with  the  pages,  she  had  dressed  herself  in  a 
Saracen  woman's  street  costume,  several  of  which  had  been 
found  in  the  citadel.  Swathed  from  head  to  foot  in  the  un- 
couth gown,  with  her  face  framed  about  by  the  brown  folds, 
she  appeared  for  all  the  world  like  a  spring  blossom  just 
bursting  from  its  dull  husk.  Olvir  was  quick  to  see  the 
resemblance. 

"  By  Ostara,  little  maid !  "  he  exclaimed ;  "  had  I  come 
upon  you  so  out  in  the  woodland,  I  'd  have  fancied  you  the 
elf  of  the  violets.  Surely  no  flower-elf  could  be  more 
winsome ! " 

"  Oh,  Olvir !  "  protested  the  girl,  and  her  blushing  face 
bent  yet  lower.  Her  bosom  rose  and  fell  quickly,  and 
she  glanced  shyly  at  the  smiling  Northman.  But  then, 

204 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

overcome  by  wonder  at  her  strange  emotion,  she  looked  up 
at  him  in  bewilderment. 

"What  is  this,  dear  hero?"  she  murmured.  "When 
you  speak  kindly  to  me,  my  very  heart  sings  with  gladness, 
and  yet  I  fear  —  I  am  ashamed." 

The  eyes  of  the  young  sea-king  sparkled  like  black 
gems,  and  he  bent  to  kiss  her  again.  But  as  his  gaze  met 
hers,  he  paused,  checked  by  her  trustful  innocence,  and  a 
quick  flush  reddened  his  dark  cheeks. 

"  I  am  not  worthy !  "  he  said,  half  aloud.  "  Who  am  I 
to  open  life's  mysteries  to  this  little  dove  ?  " 

"What  is  it,  Olvir?  "  persisted  Rothada.  "Will  you 
not  speak  out  and  answer  me?  Why  do  I  not  feel  so 
when  Dame  Hildegarde  and  my  father,  who  are  no  less 
kind  —  " 

"  Why  —  ah,  why?  "  repeated  Olvir.  "  But  wait,  child. 
Do  not  fret  your  little  heart  over  such  mysteries.  Wait  and 
ask  your  questions  of  the  gracious  queen  who  has  shown  to 
you  a  mother's  love.  We  '11  be  merry  and  care-free  while 
we  may.  See ;  here  is  a  gift  I  Ve  brought  you  from  the 
booths  of  the  Saracen  tradefolk." 

Flinging  open  the  roll  in  his  hand,  Olvir  drew  out 
from  its  wrappings  a  silken  bodice,  worthy  even  a  king's 
daughter.  Strange  as  was  its  shape,  Rothada  forgot  all 
her  shyness  and  bewilderment  as  she  gazed  at  its  beauti- 
ful embroidery,  wrought  in  pearls  and  gold-thread.  Never 
before  had  she  set  eyes  on  such  graceful  designs.  She 
needed  little  urging  to  fling  aside  her  brown  cloak  and 
slip  on  the  gay  blue  kirtle. 

"  Saint  Petronella  bless  you,  dear  hero !  "  she  cried  in 
her  delight.  "  Truly,  it  is  a  king's  gift!  I  feel  as  beautiful 
as  the  bower-maidens.  If  you  like,  you  can  kiss  me  again 
—  on  the  mouth." 

"  Like ! "  echoed  Olvir,  almost  in  a  whisper,  and  he 
205 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

thrust  out  a  gentle  finger  to  lift  her  chin.  Yet  before  he 
could  stoop  to  meet  her  pouting  lips,  she  sprang  aside  and 
pointed  out  over  the  battlements. 

"The  horses!   the  beautiful  horses!"   she   shrieked. 
"  Oh,  look,  Olvir,  —  thousands  of  horsemen  racing !  " 


206 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

Feeder  of  foul  deeds, 
Fey  do  I  deem  thee. 

LAY  OF  SIGURD. 

VEN  as  the  Northman  spun 
about  at  the  cry  of  the  little 
maiden,  his  hands  were  loosen- 
ing the  horn  at  his  belt.  His 
glance  rested  but  a  moment  on 
the  torrent  of  Saracen  spearmen 
which  was  pouring  out  across 
the  green  plain  from  behind 
le  nearest  hill. 

"By  Thor!  three  thousand 
and  more,  if  a  man!"  he  cried,  and  with  the  words  the 
horn  was  raised  to  his  lips.  As  its  warning  note  blared 
down  to  the  very  donjons  of  the  citadel,  he  bent  out  over 
the  battlements,  and  stared  across  the  roofs  of  the  Saracen 
quarter  to  the  open  space  about  the  Ebro  Gate.  Even  as 
he  looked,  a  shrill  battle-cry  rent  the  air,  —  "  Allah  acbarl 
Allah  acbar  J"  —  and  in  a  twinkling  all  the  space  about  the 
distant  gateway  was  swarming  with  armed  Saracens,  the 
turbaned  warriors  surging  in  a  wild  mob  into  the  great 
arch  of  the  gateway. 

Olvir's  nostrils  dilated.  " Thor !"  he  muttered.  "The 
Crane  will  do  well  to  close  the  gate  with  those  stinging 
gnats  behind  him." 

"  Oh,  Olvir !  are  they  fighting  —  all  those  fierce  war- 
riors?—  and  Floki  has  so  few!  He  will  be  slain! 
Hasten  —  " 

20' 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  He  must  fare  for  himself,  king's  daughter.  But  never 
fear!  The  horsemen  have  yet  a  bow-shot  to  race,  and  — 
heya.  I  look ;  there 's  proof  the  gate  is  barred." 

Great  as  was  the  distance,  the  dry,  smokeless  air  was 
so  clear  that  Rothada  could  see  with  startling  distinctness 
the  battle-ebb  of  the  attacking  mob  as  they  fell  back  before 
the  counter-charge  of  the  vikings  in  the  archway.  Sud- 
denly the  little  band  rushed  into  view,  their  weapons  flash- 
ing in  fierce  strokes.  The  deep  viking  battle-shout  rolled 
out  above  the  shrill  yells  of  the  Moslems,  and  the  giant 
warriors,  forming  swiftly  in  a  wedge,  hurled  themselves 
like  a  huge  barbed  spear-point  straight  through  the  thick 
of  the  mob. 

" Haoil  there's  fighting,  king's  daughter!"  shouted 
Olvir,  his  eyes  aflame.  But  Rothada  shrank  back,  and 
pressed  her  hands  upon  her  eyes,  to  shut  out  the  cruel 
sight. 

"What!  So  fearful  of  a  little  bloodshed?"  he  ex- 
claimed. "  But  I  forget.  You  're  still  a  cloister-dove. 
Come  down  and  hide  with  your  pages.  I  must  look  to  the 
door  when  Floki  comes  knocking." 

"  Holy  Mother !  Why  must  there  be  so  much  of  war 
and  slaying?  "  wailed  the  girl. 

"  Ask  the  priests  of  your  White  Christ,"  retorted  Olvir, 
and  taking  her  hand,  he  led  her  quickly  down  the  tower 
stair. 

Having  left  the  little  princess  in  the  care  of  her  tiring- 
woman,  he  ran  from  post  to  post  of  the  citadel's  defences, 
that  he  might  see  with  his  own  eyes  whether  every  man 
was  in  his  appointed  position.  Last  of  all,  he  mounted  the 
great  arch  above  the  entrance,  whose  oaken  doors  stood 
ajar  to  welcome  the  retreating  gate  wardens. 

At  sight  of  his  earl,  a  watchman  who  had  climbed  the 
main  tower  shouted  down  to  him:  "Ho,  ring-breaker! 

208 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


lAi 


) 


Floki's  gate  swings  open.  The  Asiamen  ride  into  the 
burg." 

"What  of  Floki?"  demanded  Olvir. 

"  I  cannot  see.  But  the  other  wardens  gather  in  the 
great  square.  Ho!  there  come  the  Crane  and  his  men,  a 
horde  of  swart  curs  yelping  at  their  heels.  The  bands  join, 
and  the  Asiamen  run  to  shelter.  Now  the  Crane  turns  this 
way." 

"  Good!  "  said  Olvir.  "  They  have  little  more  than  a 
bow-shot  to  come,  and  the  crooked  lanes  will  check  the 
horsemen." 

It  was  none  too  soon,  however,  that  the  men  of  the 
gate  watches  swung  up  the  steep  path  after  Floki  and  Liu- 
trad,  and  poured  through  the  archway  into  the  citadel 
court.  As  the  ponderous  doors  swung  to  behind  them,  the 
vanguard  of  the  Saracen  host  came  racing  into  view,  hot 
on  their  trail.  But  when  they  saw  that  their  quarry  had 
reached  cover,  the  swarthy  riders  contented  themselves 
with  a  derisive  yell,  and  wheeled  swiftly  about  to  seek  shel- 
ter from  the  arrows  of  the  vikings. 

Olvir  hastened  down  into  the  court. 

"  Well  done !  well  done,  vikings ! "  he  greeted  the 
returned  warriors.  "  You  had  brisk  play  for  a  time,  old 
Crane.  What  of  the  slain?  " 

"  Go  ask  the  Asiamen,  earl,"  replied  Floki,  with  a  dry 
chuckle.  "  We  have  none  to  name,  though  you  can  see 
enough  of  scratches  among  my  men.  The  black  cats  do 
not  lack  claws." 

"  I  give  thanks  they  are  no  sharper.  Had  your  gate 
been  opened  when  you  first  left  it  —  " 

"  The  traitors  did  well  to  open  it  at  all.  I  clenched  the 
chain-hooks  with  a  sledge.  For  all  their  treachery,  the 
curs  gained  nothing  but  scathe." 

"  Yet  we  can  count  one  man  fated.    Tell  me,  Liutrad ; 

14  209 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


did  not  Ottar  pass  out  your  gate  upon  my  mare,  to  ride 
across  the  Arga?  " 

"  He  passed  the  gate,  earl,  but  not  to  cross  the  river. 
I  heard  him  say  that  he  was  minded  to  ride  around  the  burg 
to  the  Ebro  Gate." 

"  Loki !  my  Zora,  —  my  matchless  mare !  " 

"  Ho,  earl !  "  called  down  a  warrior  on  the  wall ;  "  here 
comes  one  waving  a  green  branch.  Shall  I  loose  an  arrow 
at  the  swart  hound?  He  is  like  Earl  Kasim  as  two  peas." 

"  Hold !  "  commanded  Olvir,  and  he  ascended  quickly 
to  the  parapet,  Floki  and  Liutrad  at  his  heels.  As  they 
gained  the  top  and  leaned  with  him  over  the  battlements, 
they  saw  Kasim  Ibn  Yusuf,  branch  in  hand,  riding  up  the 
steep  ascent.  Poisoner  or  not,  there  could  be  no  doubt  as 
to  the  man's  boldness. 

"  Thor  smite  me !  "  gasped  Liutrad.  "  Zora !  —  he  rides 
Zora!" 

"  It  is  a  taunt,"  croaked  Floki.  "  None  but  a  fated  man 
would  venture  such  a  deed.  Let  me  drive  an  arrow  through 
his  hide,  and  the  mare  is  yours  again,  ring-breaker." 

Olvir  was  white  with  anger ;  but  he  shook  his  head. 

"  No,"  he  lisped ;  "  he  bears  a  peace-branch,  —  he  is  a 
herald,  and  peace-holy,  —  the  foul  poisoner !  " 

"  May  Hel's  hand  soon  grip  him !  "  growled  Floki ;  and 
then  all  three  stood  silent,  glaring  down  on  the  approach- 
ing rider. 

As  he  came  within  speaking  distance,  the  Moslem 
peered  up  at  the  Norse  chiefs,  and  waved  his  green  branch 
in  mocking  salute. 

"  Greeting,  kinsman !  "  he  called.  "  I  have  returned  to 
my  city  with  a  few  friends,  and  so  I  am  here  to  beg  your 
hospitality  for  the  night.  Come  down,  I  pray  you,  and  join 
us  in  the  market-place.  What!  you  are  silent?  Is  it  thus 
you  greet  a  guest?  How  speaks  the  Koran :  'For  the  weary 

210 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

guest,  food  and  a  bed ;  for  the  stranger  in  your  gates,  a  wife 
and  the  queen  of  your  drove/  Already  you  have  made  gift 
of  the  choice  mare.  The  groom  who  brought  her  you  will 
find,  arrow-pierced,  beyond  the  hill.  He  rode  heedless  into 
our  very  midst.  I  have  besought  you  for  food  and  shelter ; 
for  wife,  I  might  name  that  fair  houri  who  rode  with 
Karolah's  daughter  —  " 

"  Stay  a  little,  dog,"  lisped  Olvir,  in  a  voice  ominously 
gentle.  "  First,  tell  me  whether  you  come  as  envoy." 

The  vali  raised  his  branch,  and  answered  jeeringly: 
"  I,  Kasim  Ibn  Yusuf,  envoy  of  the  Beni  Al  Abbas,  come 
riding  from  Saragossa,  to  tell  you  how  I  have  outwitted  the 
great  Karolah  and  ridden  over  his  camp." 

"That  is  a  lie,  adder!" 

"No;  by  the  beard  of  the  Prophet!  In  the  dusk  of 
evening  we  rode  over  Karolah's  tent  and  trampled  his 
bright  banner  in  the  dust.  Now  will  you  come  forth  with 
your  braggart  giants  and  meet  my  friends  in  the  game  of 
swords?  " 

"  I  am  content  to  lie  at  ease  for  the  night,"  rejoined 
Olvir,  quietly,  though  his  eyes  were  blazing. 

"  What !  is  my  kinsman  so  backward  when  it  comes 
to  blows?  I  have  heard  that  he  besought  Karolah  for  the 
forefront  in  battle.  Yet  it  may  be  he  is  chilled  by  so  long 
sitting  behind  the  stone.  I  will  try  a  last  word  to  stir  his 
cold  blood.  When  I  rode  over  Karolah's  camp,  Vali  Al 
Huseyn  opened  to  me  the  gates  of  Saragossa  and  shut  them 
in  the  face  of  the  Afranj.  But  when  Karolah  named  the 
city's  ransom,  he  demanded  that  I  also  should  be  delivered 
over  to  him.  Urged  to  the  treachery  by  my  own  wife's 
father,  the  false  vali  assented.  I  was  forewarned  none  too 
soon  to  escape  from  Saragossa  in  the  night.  And  yet,  with 
all  my  haste,  let  it  be  known  to  you,  son  of  Gulnare,  that  I 
found  time  to  force  the  gate  of  the  Balatt  Al  Arabi  and 

211 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


bestow  on  your  mother's  father  a  scratch  which  all  the  skill 
of  Kosru  my  geber  could  not  heal." 

"  Enough,  poisoner !  "  lisped  Olvir,  almost  in  a  whis- 
per. "  If  you  value  life,  go  —  go  quickly !  " 

Though  the  softly  uttered  words  barely  reached  his 
ear,  the  Arab  could  see  the  look  on  the  Northman's  white 
face.  Without  a  word,  he  wheeled  Zora,  and  clattered 
down  the  slope  at  headlong  speed. 

"  Ho,  the  murderous  nithing !  "  jeered  Liutrad.  "  He 
flees  as  from  the  Fenris-wolf." 

"  None  too  fast  to  outstrip  an  arrow,"  growled  Floki. 
"  Give  the  word,  earl !  My  fingers  itch  to  drive  a  dart 
into  his  swart  back." 

"  No ! "  gasped  Olvir ;  and  he  stood  glaring  after  the 
fugitive,  while  the  cold  sweat  gathered  and  ran  down  his 
white  face.  "  Hel  seize  the  foul  murderer!  He  —  he,  my 
blood  kin's  slayer  —  has  named  me  nithing!  —  and  I  can- 
not leave  this  cursed  rock  heap !  " 

"  Thor !  Must  we  then  lie  idle  for  the  sake  of  a  Roman 
keep?" 

"  And  for  the  vala's  sake !  "  added  Liutrad,  quickly. 

"  I  am  not  one  to  forget  the  maid,"  grumbled  Floki. 
"  But  a  hundred  men  can  hold  the  keep  while  we  go  out 
to  the  blood-game." 

"  No,"  broke  in  Olvir,  harshly.  "  Far  rather  would  I 
meet  death  than  swallow  the  taunts  of  that  poisoner.  Yet 
Karl  the  Frank  gave  over  this  keep  into  my  charge,  and  I 
hold  the  hard  stones  fast  till  Karl  the  Frank  comes  again. 
Wait  till  he  knocks  at  the  burg  gates.  It  will  then  be  for 
us  to  go  out  and  open  them  to  him." 

A  smile  of  terrible  joy  lit  up  the  face  of  the  sea-king, 
and  he  turned  eagerly  to  the  southward,  as  though  he 
already  saw  the  vanguard  of  the  Prankish  host. 


212 


JFM     /niY 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

With  guile  the  great  one 
Would  they  beguile. 

SONG   OF  ATLI. 

HEN  it  became  known  through 
the  citadel  that  there  would  be 
no  sorties  against  the  Asiamen 
until  the  coming  of  the  Prank- 
ish host,  the  towers  at  once  were 
crowded  with  watchers,  all  gaz- 
ing southward  along  the  Ebro 
road.  But  a  bitter  disappoint- 
ment lay  before  the  war-eager 
vikings. 

Toward  mid-afternoon  there  was  a  great  stir  in  the 
Saracen  quarters,  and  soon  all  the  Moslem  folk  of  the  burg 
—  mounted  and  afoot,  or  drawn  in  their  heavy-laden  ox- 
carts —  began  to  move  in  a  steady  stream  along  the  streets 
and  out  through  the  Arga  Gate.  Before  nightfall  the  last 
cart  had  creaked  over  the  Arga  bridge,  and  was  trailing 
away  on  the  Astorga  road. 
Floki  was  like  a  baited  bear. 

"  Heit  ring-breaker,"  he  grumbled ;  "  the  dogs  seek  a 
new  kennel.  It  must  be  they  know  the  Franks  are  coming. 
Now  is  the  time  to  strike  the  poisoner,  —  now,  before  he 
slips  through  our  fingers.  He  will  flee  to-night  on  the  trail 
of  these  slow-moving  tradefolk." 

"And  what  if  it  be  a  lure  to  draw  us  into  the  open? 
No,  old  Crane!  If  the  swart  dogs  linger  till  the  Franks 
come,  we  will  make  blood-play  for  them.  Not  now." 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  last  drop  in  the  bitter  cup  was  drained  when  at 
dawn  the  Saracen  spearmen  were  seen  leisurely  riding 
westward  on  the  Astorga  road.  Astride  their  swift  desert 
coursers,  they  well  knew  their  safety  from  the  pursuit  of 
any  kaffir  force. 

An  hour  or  so  after  their  rearguard  had  disappeared 
four  thousand  Prankish  horsemen  came  plodding  north 
upon  the  Ebro  road,  their  heavy  war-chargers  so  weary 
that  they  could  not  be  spurred  out  of  a  walk. 

"  They  have  done  their  best,"  admitted  Olvir,  half  re- 
luctantly, and  choosing  the  first  hundred  men  in  the  court- 
yard, he  marched  out  to  meet  the  Franks.  There  was  none 
to  bar  the  way.  The  Saracens  were  all  gone,  taking  with 
them  the  Jews,  and  the  Navarrese  townfolk  wisely  kept  out 
of  the  path  of  the  fierce  Northerners. 

But  there  was  some  delay  in  the  Saracen  quarter, 
where  the  vikings  scattered  to  see  whether  any  loot  was  to 
be  found  in  the  deserted  houses.  As  it  proved,  nearly 
everywhere  the  owners  had  fled  in  such  haste  that  all 
manner  of  rich  plunder  lay  ready  to  the  hand  of  the  first 
comer. 

In  vain  Olvir  sought  to  recall  the  eager  looters  from 
their  search.  Hardly  a  score  appeared  after  repeated  blasts 
of  his  horn ;  but,  spurred  on  by  his  desire  to  hear  the  tid- 
ings of  the  Prankish  host,  he  advanced  with  this  scant 
following. 

The  delay  had  been  considerable,  and  before  Olvir 
could  reach  the  great  archway  of  the  burg  gate  a  horseman 
on  a  black  Arab  stallion  came  racing  through  the  dark 
tunnel.  In  two  leaps  the  splendid  courser  was  beside  him, 
and  Count  Roland  was  springing  from  the  saddle,  to  grasp 
his  shoulders. 

"  Brother!  "  the  Frank  almost  shouted.  "  Brother!  — 
you're  safe  —  the  poisoner  did  not  take  you  unawares! 

214 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

We  rode  night  and  day  to  overtake  the  traitors;   but  the 
horses  of  my  men —    Thank  God,  I  find  you  safel " 

There  was  no  resisting  the  heartfelt  joy  of  the  Frank. 
It  swept  away  at  a  breath  every  trace  of  the  grievance  be- 
tween the  friends.  Olvir  gazed  earnestly  into  the  radiant 
eyes  of  his  captor. 

"  No  less  am  I  glad  to  see  you,  brother,"  he  said.  But 
even  at  that  moment  his  face  clouded :  "  I  thirst  for  your 
tidings,  king's  kin!  No  word  have  I  heard  since  the  host 
fared  south,  —  only,  the  poisoner  mocked  me  with  evil 
tales.  What  of  my  mother's  father?  Is  it  true  he  met  his 
fate—?" 

"  True,  Olvir !  The  wretch  struck  him  with  a  poisoned 
blade.  We  came  with  Al  Huseyn  to  hunt  out  the  traitor, 
but  found  only  the  dying  count." 

"  And  none  stopped  the  murderer?  " 

"  He  was  already  gone,  brother.  It  was  at  twilight. 
He  and  his  following  rode  out  of  Saragossa  before  Al 
Huseyn  could  send  word  to  the  gates,  and  the  swart 
hounds  burst  through  our  beleaguering  lines  in  the  dark- 
ness. I  could  not  leave  your  dying  kinsman,  —  and  it 
was  well.  He  intrusted  me  with  your  inheritance,  —  this 
pouch  of  gem-stones,  and  a  book  in  Arabic  script,  which 
he  said  contained  the  wisdom  of  Plato,  the  old  Greek 
sage.  The  book  is  on  my  saddle;  the  gems  have  not 
left  my  bosom  since  the  noble  count  gave  them  into  my 
charge." 

Olvir  took  the  heavy  pouch,  and,  thrusting  in  his  fist,v 
drew  out  a  handful  of  flashing  gems,  —  rubies  and  emeralds 
and  sapphires. 

"  Here  's  honor  to  the  dead!  "  he  exclaimed,  as  he  held 
out  the  precious  stones  to  Roland. 

"In  his  honor!"  replied  the  Frank,  gravely,  and  he 
took  the  gift  as  freely  as  it  was  offered.  But  as  the  gems 

215 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

rolled  into  his' palm,  he  picked  out  a  great  pearl,  and  handed 
it  back  to  the  giver. 

"  Keep  this  for  the  little  princess,  brother,"  he  said. 

"  It  is  a  gift  for  a  bride,  if  it  has  mates,"  murmured 
Olvir. 

"  A  fitting  betrothal  gift  from  a  sea-king  to  a  princess ! 
Now  that  our  bitterness  is  past,  only  one  thing  is  lacking 
to  round  out  my  happiness.  Two  more  years  or  so,  and 
your  little  may  —  " 

"  Say  no  more,  brother.  That  pure  snow-blossom,  — 
and  I,  the  bloody-fanged  wolf!  Not  a  day  has  gone  by 
since  I  saw  in  her  eyes —  But  tell  me!  Is  it  true  the 
poisoner  rode  over  the  king's  camp?" 

"  I  must  own  he  told  you  truth.  We  were  watching 
for  treachery,  and  yet  the  wily  fox  caught  us  unawares. 
When  our  smaller  host  came  faring  from  Barcelona,  Count 
Barnard  rode  across  the  Ebro  half  a  day  in  the  lead,  and 
the  king  was  holding  war-council  with  him,  when,  in  the 
twilight,  the  pagan  spearmen  burst  upon  the  royal  guard. 
Only  by  good  chance  did  I  bring  up  the  horsemen  in  time 
to  save  our  lord  king." 

"  Thor !  You  Ve  not  lacked  sword-play.  But  what  of 
Abd-er-Rahman,  that  old  Omyyad  lion?" 

"Ask  the  South  Wind;  it  alone  may  tell  you.  He 
proved  too  wary  a  lion  to  show  himself  within  hail  of  the 
Ebro;  while,  for  our  part,  with  treachery  in  our  rear,  we 
would  have  been  mad  to  fare  south  into  the  enemy's 
country." 

"Treachery?" 

"When  we  marched  down  the  Ebro  valley  to  Sara- 
gossa,  the  false  vali  of  the  burg  closed  the  gates  against  us, 
though  the  noble  Al  Arabi  sought  to  hold  him  to  his  com- 
pact. So  we  laid  siege  to  the  burg  until  Count  Barnard 
came  with  the  eastern  host,  and  the  poisoner  sought  to  slay 

216 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


the  king.  Before  that,  messengers  had  come,  by  way  of 
Narbonne  and  Barnard's  host,  with  word  from  Count 
Rudulf  that  the  Saxons  threatened  an  uprising.  The  king 
at  once  sent  Gerold  and  Worad  Rhineward  at  the  head 
of  a  thousand  horsemen.  They  took  the  longer  but  safer 
road  by  way  of  Narbonne;  for  the  whole  land  swarmed 
with  the  bands  of  our  treacherous  allies." 

"  That  I  foreboded,"  said  Olvir.  "  No  messenger  came 
through  with  tidings." 

"  Small  wonder  !  Of  all  our  Saracen  allies,  your  noble 
kinsman  Al  Arabi  alone  kept  troth.  We  had  had  enough  to 
sicken  us  of  the  Southland  without  old  Rudulf  s  warnings. 
Already  our  host  was  wasting  from  fever  and  famine,  and 
so,  as  Abd-er-Rahman  would  not  come  to  give  us  battle, 
there  was  naught  to  do  but  to  take  the  wergild  which  Vali 
Al  Huseyn  had  offered  to  ransom  his  burg.  The  host  is 
already  following  my  trail." 

Olvir  flung  out  a  hand  toward  the  south  :  "  By  Loki  ! 
a  bitter  warfaring  has  it  been  for  more  than  one.  I  have 
drunk  a  cup  of  gall  ;  no  less  the  great  king  —  " 

"  Gall  would  have  been  honey  to  him  beside  that  bitter 
draught.  But  see;  here  come  my  laggard  riders." 

"  Your  riders  !  Halt  them,  brother  ;  let  them  camp 
outside  the  walls.  They  Ve  already  had  their  share  of 
war-loot,  while  my  men  have  not  fingered  a  penny.  Ours 
should  be  the  plunder  of  the  Saracen  houses." 

"  But  the  Christian  townfolk  —  ?  " 

"  King  Karl  shall  levy  their  wergild.  We  will  not 
break  a  Christian  door.  I  can  trust  my  sea-wolves  even 
in  the  looting." 

"  It  is  well,  brother.  The  horsemen  shall  camp  outside 
the  burg.  They  shall  guard  the  gates,  but  not  enter,"  re- 
plied Roland,  and,  raising  his  horn,  he  blew  a  ringing  call 
to  halt. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


So  the  weary  weeks  of  war-vigil  came  to  an  end,  and 
few  other  than  the  townfolk  of  Pampeluna  grumbled  at  the 
half-week  which  lapsed  before  the  main  host  of  the  Franks, 
with  its  huge  over-burdened  ox-train,  came  trailing  out  of 
the  South. 

Throughout  the  days  of  waiting  the  weary  horsemen 
were  well  content  to  lie  about  their  camps  and  feast  on  the 
good  fare  sent  out  by  the  luckless  townfolk;  while  up  in 
the  citadel  the  vikings  made  exact  allotment  of  their  Mos- 
lem loot,  and  in  the  heat  of  the  reckless  gaming  which  fol- 
lowed forgot  how  they  had  been  cooped  up  for  months  like 
nun-women,  and  cheated  of  the  merry  sword-play. 

The  days  of  idleness,  of  wassail  and  gaming,  were 
soon  cut  short.  On  the  morning  that  the  main  host  reached 
Pampeluna,  King  Karl  called  the  councillors  of  the  city  be- 
fore him,  and  told  them  that  their  burg  should  no  longer 
serve  as  an  eyry  for  the  treacherous  Saracen  hawks.  He 
would  exact  no  wergild,  —  no  ransom  ;  but  the  citadel  and 
walls  of  the  burg  should  be  razed  to  the  ground. 

There  was  no  appeal  from  the  hard  decree.  Within  an 
hour  the  city  walls  swarmed  with  thousands  of  Prankish 
warriors,  armed  with  mattock  and  battering-ram.  Soon  the 
battlements  were  crashing  down,  to  shatter  one  upon  the 
other. 

But  the  task  was  not  one  to  be  accomplished  in  a  day, 
even  by  hordes  of  brawny  Northerners.  While  the  greater 
number  toiled  at  battering  down  the  walls  and  casting  the 
loosened  stones  into  the  Arga,  others  scoured  the  country 
for  miles  around,  levying  tribute  and  hostages  wherever 
they  went. 

Among  the  first  of  these  forays  was  one  led  by  Count 
Hardrat  in  the  direction  of  Astorga.  When  he  returned, 
he  reported  that  no  trace  of  the  Moslems  had  been  found. 
Yet,  for  such  a  fruitless  faring,  he  seemed  highly  satisfied 

218 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

over  its  outcome,  and  he  had  no  little  to  say  apart  with  the 
beautiful  daughter  of  the  Grey  Wolf. 

The  nearer  the  time  set  for  the  homeward  faring  ap- 
proached, the  more  frequently  was  Hardrat  to  be  seen  with 
Fastrada ;  but  as  he  was  well  known  to  be  a  suitor  for  the 
maiden's  hand,  his  attention  aroused  no  comment  other 
than  pleasant  raillery. 

When  at  last  the  plunder-burdened  host  trailed  away 
from  the  dismantled  city,  up  the  valley  of  the  Arga,  Hard- 
rat  had  no  other  choice  than  to  join  his  command.  But 
Kosru  the  Magian  rode  in  closest  attendance  upon  Fas- 
trada, up  the  Zubiri,  and  across  the  wooded  hills,  into  the 
glen  of  Roncesvalles. 

That  evening,  as  Fastrada  rested  with  others  of  the 
court  on  the  turf  before  the  royal  pavilion,  Hardrat  ap- 
proached the  king's  seat  and  knelt  haltingly  to  kiss  his 
lord's  knee.  Karl  smiled,  and  reached  out  his  hand  instead. 

"  What  would  our  brave  count  ask?  "  he  said. 

"  No  great  favor  to  grant,  sire,  yet  one  upon  which 
I  have  set  my  heart,"  answered  the  Thuringian,  hurriedly. 
"  Since  Count  Gerold  left,  the  men  of  Duke  Tassilo's  levy 
have  marched  at  random.  Among  them  is  a  warrior  who 
fought  beside  me  at  Pavia  —  " 

"  A  small  favor,"  replied  Karl,  carelessly.  "  You  wish 
to  command  the  Bavarians.  If  that  is  all  —  " 

"  I  take  heart  to  ask  a  greater  favor,  sire.  Since  your 
Majesty  put  me  over  the  Austrasians,  my  command  has  not 
led  the  host.  I  have  swung  sword  for  your  Majesty  in 
more  than  one  hard  fight." 

"  Your  service  is  not  forgotten.  If  such  is  your  wish, 
you  shall  lead  the  host  back  across  the  mountains." 

Hardrat  bowed,  but  stood  hesitating. 

"  What  more?  "  asked  Karl.  "  What  other  favor  can 
I  grant  my  bold  hero?  " 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  None  other  to  me,  sire,  but  one  to  a  maiden.  The 
daughter  of  Rudulf  wishes  to  be  among  the  first  to  look 
out  upon  the  northern  slopes." 

"  There  is  nothing  to  hinder.  The  maiden  shall  have 
her  wish." 

"  I  thank  your  Majesty  doubly,"  said  the  Thuringian, 
and  he  withdrew  hastily,  as  though  he  feared  that  the  king 
might  recall  the  lightly  spoken  favors. 

"  A  gruff  man,  but  trusty,"  muttered  Karl  to  Anselm, 
the  Count  Palatine,  who  stood  by  his  seat.  "For  all 
his  drunkenness,  there  are  few  bolder  than  my  forest 
hero." 

"  That  may  well  be,  sire,"  rejoined  Anselm,  dryly.  He 
was  about  to  add  more,  when  Roland  and  Olvir  came  racing 
down  the  valley  through  the  twilight,  Olvir  mounted  on 
a  black  Arab  courser,  the  gift  of  his  sword-brother.  The 
hoofs  of  the  horses  ploughed  up  the  turf  before  the  king 
as  the  riders  drew  rein.  Roland  leaped  off  at  once. 

"  Tidings,  sire ! "  he  cried.  "  I  bring  tidings,  both  good 
and  bad.  A  messenger  has  come  through  the  pass;  he 
follows  with  the  written  word." 

"  Speak  your  tidings,  —  the  ill  first.  The  good  may 
sweeten  the  bitter." 

"  This,  then,  sire:  The  Saxon  wolves  harry  the  Rhine 
bank  from  Cologne  to  the  Moselle,  —  Wittikind  and  his 
wild  followers.  No  burg  or  host  has  checked  their  ad- 
vance across  the  country  of  the  Hessians.  It  is  feared 
that  Fulda  may  already  lie  in  ashes.  The  heathen  ravage 
with  fire  and  sword,  slaughtering  all,  even  to  the  women 
and  babes." 

Those  nearest  the  king  heard  the  grinding  of  his  teeth, 
and  caught  the  flash  of  his  eye  through  the  gloom.  Yet  he 
spoke  in  a  calm  voice:  "Truly,  you  bear  bitter  tidings! 
Give  us  now  the  sweet." 

220 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  In  a  word,  sire,  the  queen  is  safe  past  her  time. 
Two  strong-limbed  king's  sons  await  your  Majesty  at 
Casseneuil." 

"  And  will  wait  long !  "  whispered  Hardrat  in  the  ear 
of  Fastrada.  The  girl  clutched  his  sleeve. 

"  Hark  to  the  king's  answer !  "  she  hissed. 

But  there  was  no  need  to  strain  the  ear.  Through  the 
gathering  night  the  king's  voice  rang  out,  clear  and  joyful : 
"  Ho,  my  liegemen,  here  is  honey  to  sweeten  the  sour  wine ! 
We  shall  taste  of  both.  We  will  not  linger  in  the  morning 
for  the  plodding  oxen  to  overtake  us.  The  sooner  the  host 
crosses  the  pass,  the  quicker  the  wains  can  follow.  Hard- 
rat,  with  the  Austrasians  and  Bavarians,  will  march  an 
hour  before  dawn.  Roland,  with  the  horse,  will  wait  as 
foreguard  for  the  treasure  and  baggage." 

"With  Roland  before  and  Steward  Eggihard  in  the 
rear,  sire,  the  treasure  could  not  well  be  safer,"  observed 
Abbot  Fulrad. 

"There  is  no  question  of  danger.  It  is  speed  we 
should  bear  in  mind,"  said  Karl. 

"  Then  they  must  sharpen  the  goads,  sire,"  remarked 
Roland.  "  The  host  will  be  lolling  about  camp  in  the  Nive 
valley  even  before  Eggihard  brings  his  oxen  within  view 
of  my  waiting  riders." 

"  There  will  be  need,  sire,  to  urge  on  the  drovers,"  said 
Count  Anselm.  "  Give  me  leave  to  so  lend  aid." 

"  A  good  service,  lord  judge.  Look  to  it  that  no  pil- 
ferers lay  hand  on  goods  or  gold,  to  slip  away  into  the 
forest.  Many  of  the  drovers  are  of  Vascon  blood.  Choose 
whom  you  wish  to  aid  in  your  watch.  Who  comes?  " 

"  The  tidings-bearer,  lord  king,"  replied  Olvir. 

"So.    Bring  lights." 

A  dozen  courtiers  ran  to  fetch  brands  from  the  nearest 
fire.  As  they  returned,  a  gnarl-faced  Vascon  stepped  for- 


221 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

ward  in  the  light  of  their  torches,  and  knelt  to  present  to 
the  king  a  sealed  parchment.  Fulrad  took  the  message, 
and,  at  a  sign  from  Karl,  broke  the  seal.  But  the  king 
turned  to  the  messenger,  who  had  risen  and  was  about  to 
slip  away. 

"  Hold,  man,"  he  said.    "  Where  do  you  come  from?  " 

The  Vascon  halted,  and  stood  hesitating,  as  though  he 
but  partly  understood  the  question.  Then  he  answered  in 
a  harsh  voice :  "  Casseneuil,  Frank  king." 

"  You  have  rendered  good  service,"  said  Karl.  "  Our 
steward  shall  see  to  it  that  you  have  fitting  reward." 

A  strange  smile  passed  across  the  Vascon's  stolid  face, 
like  a  flicker  of  the  torchlight,  and  he  turned  quietly  away 
into  the  darkness.  Olvir  caught  the  man's  look,  but  then 
his  attention  was  drawn  by  Abbot  Fulrad. 

"  Here  are  three  several  messages,  sire,"  observed  the 
priest.  "  The  first  is  from  Count  Teutoric,  who  sends  word 
that  Rudulf  is  gone  against  the  Sorbs;  that  the  Saxons 
are  ravaging  in  the  Rhinegau,  and  that  he  is  marching 
against  them  with  all  speed  from  the  Frisian  Mark. 
Below,  in  Worad's  hand,  is  word  that  he  and  Gerold 
had  met  the  messenger  near  Soissones,  and  would  press 
on  with  utmost  haste  to  levy  warriors  and  attack  the 
rebels.  Last  of  all,  word  noted  at  Casseneuil,  that  the 
queen  is  safely  delivered  of  twin  sons,  alike  unblemished 
and  vigorous." 

"  Praised  be  the  Holy  Mother ! "  murmured  Karl,  and 
for  a  while  he  sat  musing,  his  face  aglow  with  love  and 
tender  pride. 

The  songs  of  his  distant  warriors,  who  were  celebrating 
their  last  night  on  the  southern  slope  of  the  mountains  by 
a  wassail-feast,  presently  aroused  the  king.  He  glanced 
up  at  the  waiting  ring  of  lords,  and  signed  to  Anselm  and 
Abbot  Fulrad. 

222 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Come  within,"  he  said.  "  Let  wax  tapers  be  brought, 
and  send  for  my  Dane  scribe  Liutrad." 

Roland  sprang  back  into  the  saddle  and  rode  with 
Olvir  across  the  valley  to  where  Rothada  sat  in  a  ring  of 
torches,  surrounded  by  a  little  court  of  the  younger  cour- 
tiers. Liutrad,  though  by  no  means  willing,  ran  to  do  the 
king's  bidding,  while  the  merry  companions  he  left  behind 
fell  suddenly  silent  with  the  coming  of  the  high-counts. 
But  Rothada  welcomed  with  delight  both  her  kinsman  and 
Olvir,  and  when  the  war-famed  heroes  showed  a  willing- 
ness to  lay  aside  their  dignity  and  join  in  the  games,  all  was 
soon  merry  again  with  the  court  of  the  king's  daughter. 


CHAPTER  XXV 


There  lay  many  a  man  Men  of  the  Northland 

Marr'd  by  the  javelins,  Shot  over  shield. 

BATTLE  OF  BRUNANBURH. 

OON  found  Roland  and  his 
horsemen  still  waiting  for  the 
ox-train  at  the  head  of  the  val- 
ley. Hours  since,  the  last  files  of 
the  main  host  had  wound  away 
up  the  wild  gorges  of  Ibaneta. 

From  the  bank  where  he 
was  sitting  with  Olvir,  Roland 
sprang  up  for  the  twentieth  time, 
"to  peer  down  the  valley. 
"By  my  sword,  brother,"  he  said,  "you'll  soon  be 
wishing  you  had  gone  on  with  your  sea-wolves.    By  now 
they  are  resting  over  in  the  Nive  valley." 

"What  odds?    Are  you  not  here  with  me?    I  might 
wish  for  the  little  vala  also;   yet  this  is  not  unpleasant," 
replied  Olvir ;  and  he  called  the  black  Arab  courser  which 
Roland  had  given  him,  to  stroke  the  beast's  starred  fore- 
head.   But  Roland  walked  to  and  fro  restlessly. 
"  We  cannot  pass  the  fells  in  the  dark,"  he  said. 
"True;  yet  there  is  still  good  time,  and  —  the  wains 
come  now ! " 

"  That  creaking?    One  can  hear  them  creak  a  mile  or 
more." 

"  Not  from  where  we  stand.    They  '11  soon  wheel  into 


view/ 


224 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  A  true  seer !  There  comes  the  first  ox-span,  and 
Anselm  waving  to  us.  It  is  well  he  rides  with  the  train, 
else  we  should  never  have  seen  them.  None  but  oxen  could 
have  come  at  all  with  wains  so  laden." 

"  Tribute  gold  of  a  dozen  burgs  and  all  the  plunder  of 
the  Ebro  valley !  "  muttered  Olvir. 

"  Not  all,  brother.  Your  sea-wolves  bear  theirs  upon 
their  own  shoulders." 

"  Where  it  is  safest.  They  '11  yield  it  with  life,  —  no 
sooner." 

"  One  and  all,  they  're  welcome  to  their  loot,  and  wel- 
come to  bear  it.  I  trust  mine  in  Anselm's  care." 

"  Mine  is  yet  safer.  My  Saracen  gems  lie  in 
Floki's  bosom.  What  thief  would  risk  the  bill  of  the 
Crane?  " 

"  Only  one  utterly  reckless  of  life.  But  why  do  we 
talk  of  safety?  We  have  put  even  Kasim  behind  us. 
Would  to  Heaven  we  'd  first  met  the  traitor !  Yet  now  all 
that  is  past.  We  go  home  to  enjoy  our  war-loot." 

"  Rather,  to  push  on  to  wilder  war-fields." 

"Ah,  brother,  if  only  we  may  ride  together!  Yet  I 
fear  that  his  Majesty  may  leave  me  on  the  Garonne,  or  send 
me  back  to  my  Breton  Mark." 

"  You  shall  go  Rhineward  with  us,  though  I  bend  knee 
for  the  favor." 

"  We  shall  soon  see.  Now  to  horse.  The  oxen  press 
upon  us." 

"  To  horse,  and  forward !  "  the  command  passed  down 
the  waiting  ranks.  Four  thousand  heavy-armed  Franks 
swung  into  the  saddle ;  four  thousand  war-steeds  wheeled 
into  column.  The  ancient  Roman  way  shook  with  the 
tread  of  hoofs.  At  the  head  of  the  column  the  black  Arabs 
pranced  and  curvetted,  no  less  pleased  than  their  riders  to 
be  off,  after  the  long  wait. 

is  225 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  Now  we  fare  homeward !  "  exclaimed  Roland,  and  he 
gazed  up  joyfully  at  the  towering  peaks  and  precipices. 
But  a  sudden  shadow  fell  on  Olvir's  face. 

"  Homeward !  "  he  echoed.  "  I  trust  it  may  not  yet  be 
the  homeward  faring  for  me." 

"  Saint  Michael,  no !  Surely,  there  is  nothing  now  to 
draw  you  back  into  your  frozen  North.  As  to  your  ships, 
we  '11  sail  them  around  into  the  Rhine." 

"  My  ships  will  soon  be  sailing  the  North  Sea ;  but 
they  may  steer  for  another  haven  than  Rhine  Mouth.  My 
sea-wolves  are  fairly  glutted  with  plunder,  and  I  dread  lest 
these  fells  recall  too  well  the  cliffs  of  our  Trondir  fiords." 

"But  what  if  the  little  vala  bids  her  warriors  stay? 
Never  doubt,  brother ;  we  '11  sail  to  the  North  as  we  sailed 
to  the  South,  —  unless  the  king  sails  with  us." 

"  Not  he.  You  Franks  are  not  fond  of  brine.  But 
with  Rothada  aboard,  we  could  hold  fast  all  the  crews,  — 
Dane  and  Norse  alike." 

"  I  could  swear  to  that.  And  we  shall  soon  put  her 
power  to  the  test.  By  nightfall  we  will  overtake  the  host, 
and  can  tell  the  little  maiden  of  our  wish." 

"  Before  nightfall !  Already  we  scale  the  pass,  and 
Anselm  urges  on  the  ox-drovers.  Their  beasts  follow  close 
upon  our  rear." 

"  Yet,  at  the  best,  they  '11  drag  their  wains  all  too 
slowly  up  these  steep  gorges,"  grumbled  Roland.  "  How 
the  grim  cliffs  tower  above  us!  Here  is  fitting  abode  for 
fiends  and  evil  sprites." 

"  Rather,  for  evil-minded  Vascons !  Look  above  in  the 
cleft.  I  saw  the  glint  of  steel." 

"  The  spear  of  a  bear-hunter.  The  sullen  mountaineer 
halts  in  the  chase  to  watch  us  pass." 

"  I  saw  more  spears  than  one !  By  Thor !  I  'm  minded 
to  scale  the  cliff." 

226 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"To  what  end?  At  the  worst,  it  is  only  a  band  of 
Vascon  thieves  lying  in  wait  to  cut  off  stragglers." 

"  Were  my  vikings  here,  we  *d  not  pass  by  this  wasp 
nest." 

"  Ride  on.  The  gnarl-faced  thieves  will  not  even  fall 
upon  the  tail  of  the  rearguard,  if  the  men  keep  close.  It 
would  not  mend  matters  should  we  seek  to  climb  the  cleft. 
My  horsemen  are  no  more  crag-bred  than  am  I.  In  their 
heavy  war-gear  —  " 

"  Come,  then.  But  first,  send  back  warning  to  Eggi- 
hard  and  Anselm." 

Roland  turned  and  gave  the  command  to  the  first  of 
his  horsemen.  Then  his  black  stallion  clattered  on  up  the 
steep  ascent,  side  by  side  with  the  black  courser. 

For  some  time  the  sword-brothers  rode  in  silence. 
Olvir,  with  the  delight  of  one  bred  among  fells,  was  drink- 
ing in  eagerly  the  wild  and  rugged  beauty  of  the  pass. 
The  Frank,  however,  was  depressed  in  spirit,  half  awed  by 
that  which  most  pleased  his  Norse  mate.  He  sighed  with 
relief  when  the  road  began  to  wind  about  the  towering 
mass  of  Altobiscar. 

"Saint  Michael!"  he  cried;  "here's  a  landmark  to 
pass  with  joy !  Now  we  shall  soon  be  looking  down  upon 
the  gentle  valley  of  the  Nive." 

"  I  said  true.  Even  at  this  pace  twilight  will  see  the 
last  of  Eggihard's  Neustrians  trailing  into  camp." 

"  Ah,  brother,  that  will  be  a  merrier  return  to  the  north 
slopes  than  I  could  hope  for  when  we  marched  from  the 
Garonne.  Those  were  bitter  days  —  " 

"  Speak  no  more  of  that  ill  time,  Roland,  —  nor  of  the 
maiden.  Never  again  shall  doubt  come  between  us.  Our 
hearts  are  now  one." 

"  Even  to  the  end  of  all  things." 

"In  life!  —  in  death!"  cried  Olvir,  so  fervently  that 
227 


QQI 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

the  echoing  cliffs  rang  with  the  words :  "  life  in  death  I  — 
in  death  I  — death  I" 

Roland  shuddered. 

"  God's  mercy !  "  he  cried.  "  Hark  how  the  crag-fiends 
mock!" 

"  Hark  —  fiends  mock  I  —  fiends  mock  I  —  mock  I  "  called 
back  the  echoes. 

"  It  is  nothing,"  laughed  Olvir.  "  Whoever  the  rock- 
dwellers  may  be,  —  kobold  or  scrat,  troll  or  dwarf,  —  they 
never  do  harm.  In  my  bairnhood  I  would  often  linger  in 
the  glens  where  they  dwelt,  to  jeer  at  them." 

"  Truly,  yours  was  a  wild  boyhood,  Olvir.  You  have 
yet  told  me  little  of  it." 

"A  merry  bairnhood,  though  Otkar's  was  a  heavy 
hand." 

"  That  I  can  well  believe.  Tell  me  more  of  your  tomb 
life." 

"  Tell  me,  rather,  of  your  swart  Bretons,  and  of  the 
Frisian  vikings,  who,  you  say,  settled  along  the  coast  of 
southern  Neustria  in  the  olden  days." 

"  Such  is  the  tale.  But  I  am  not  in  the  mood  for  talk. 
I  would  rather  hear  of  your  wild  Norse  land." 

"  Then  look  well  at  these  crags  and  heights,  —  most 
of  all  at  the  great  snow-peak.  Let  this  rough  way  be  in- 
stead the  smooth  ship-path,  —  the  fiord ;  and  on  either 
hand  the  foam-white  torrents  leaping  from  the  heights. 
Such  is  my  home." 

"  I  choose,  then,  the  oak  forest,  with  quiet  hill  and  dale, 
where,  if  you  come  upon  sprites,  the  worst  will  be  some 
gentle  swan-maiden,  combing  her  hair  by  the  brookside." 

"  Or  a  werwolf  lurking  in  the  gloom  to  seize  the  un- 
wary hunter." 

"  Well  cast !  But  I  Ve  yet  to  see  either  swan-maiden 
or  werwolf;  whereas  your  crag-fiends  that  mock  with  wit- 

m 228 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


less  mimicry  —  ay !  and  peer  down  from  the  cliff  brink  — 
Look,  brother!" 

"  Thor !  that 's  no  fiend.    A  Saracen  without  turban !  " 

"  Saracen?    How  should  they  —  " 

"  An  onfall !    Look  ahead !  " 

"  A  wall  —  the  gorge  is  walled !  " 

"And  beyond  —  black  banners!  By  Loki,  the  poi- 
soner has  snared  us!  Now  are  we  fated,  brother!  From 
the  heights  men  will  cast  down  rocks." 

"  God  help  us !  We  cannot  stand ;  nor,  with  foes  on 
the  cliff,  can  we  cross  that  wall." 

"  Sound  your  horn.    To  turn  back  may  alone  save  us." 

"  Not  even  that,  if  there  are  many  of  the  traitors,"  re- 
plied Roland ;  yet  he  raised  his  horn.  The  gorge  re-echoed 
to  the  blast. 

From  end  to  end  the  long  line  of  horsemen  wavered 
and  halted,  amazed  at  the  note.  But  a  second  blast  sent 
them  wheeling  back  to  the  rear.  Cries  of  alarm  and  be- 
wilderment burst  out  all  along  their  scattered  ranks.  Those 
nearest  the  ox-wains  shouted  to  the  drovers  to  turn  back. 
But  the  Vascons  goaded  their  beasts  on  into  the  jam  of 
backward-wheeling  Franks. 

Then,  when  all  in  the  gorge  was  wildest  flurry  and 
confusion,  high  up  the  steep  slopes  and  along  the  cliff 
crests  a  thousand  horns  brayed  out  the  battle-note,  and  in 
a  twinkling  the  heights  swarmed  with  armed  Vascons. 

"  Lost!  all  is  lost!  "  cried  Roland. 

"  Thor  aid !  We  die,  brother ;  but  we  die  as  men.  Ho, 
Rhine  wolves !  turn !  turn  again !  We  cross  the  wall !  " 

The  wild  cry  roused  the  great  war-count  from  his 
despair.  Out  flashed  Ironbiter,  and  the  black  stallion 
bounded  after  his  fellow. 

"Christ    and    king!      Christ    and    king! 
pagans !     Follow  me,  Franks !  " 

229 


(JOOC 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

A  hundred  or  more  riders  wheeled  at  the  call,  to  charge 
after  their  leader.  And  as  they  charged,  the  gorge  behind 
them  darkened  with  clouds  of  spears  and  arrows,  with 
avalanches  of  rocks  and  tree-trunks.  From  van  to  rear  a 
shriek  went  up  from  the  host,  —  a  wail  of  despair,  soon  lost 
in  the  screams  and  groans  of  mangled  victims. 

Little  did  the  heavy  Northern  armor  avail  its  bearers. 
Neither  shield  nor  hauberk  nor  helmet  of  bronze  or  iron 
could  withstand  the  ponderous  Vascon  missiles.  The  very 
completeness  of  the  Prankish  war-gear  was  fatal,  for  its 
weight  impeded  the  efforts  of  the  warriors  to  escape  the 
trap.  Penned  in  the  gorge  like  sheep  for  the  slaughter, 
the  Franks  charged  back,  to  trample  their  fellows  behind, 
or  vainly  sought  to  scale  the  heights  after  the  nimble 
Vascon  drovers. 

Pierced  through  by  arrows  and  darts,  mangled  by 
logs  and  stones,  the  doomed  warriors  fought  and  tram- 
pled one  upon  another,  in  frenzied  struggles  to  escape 
that  terrible  downpour.  But  above  them  the  Vascons 
mocked  their  cries  for  mercy  with  yells  of  triumph,  and 
drowned  their  pitiful  shrieks  with  the  crash  of  the  war- 
hail. 

Summoned  by  Anselm's  horn  to  guard  the  treasure 
from  the  pilfering  drovers,  Eggihard  and  his  Neustrians 
rushed  forward  among  the  ox-wains,  only  to  share  in  the 
fate  of  the  Prankish  horse.  When  they  turned  again  to  fly, 
they  found  the  way  behind  them  bristling  with  pikes  and 
spears.  The  laggard  Asturians  and  Navarrese,  silently 
trailing  the  host,  had  closed  upon  the  rear,  eager  to  share 
the  Moslem  plunder  and  to  avenge  the  ruined  walls  of 
Pampeluna. 

In  the  heart  of  that  steel-leaved  thicket  fell  Eggihard 
the  High  Steward,  valiantly  striving  to  cut  a  way  for  his 
Neustrians  out  of  the  shambles. 

20 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


But  the  greater  number  of  the  footmen  shrank  back 
before  the  advancing  spear-points,  to  perish  on  the  heaps 
of  slaughtered  beasts  and  men.  Soon  Anselm  and  a  score 
of  followers  fled  alone  before  the  advance  of  the  Hispano- 
Goths;  while  from  every  mountain  cleft  and  slope  the 
Vascons  clambered  down  to  snatch  their  blood-drenched 


booty  from  beneath  the  mass  of  torn  and  shattered  victims. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 


We  have  fought ;  if  we  die  to-day, 
If  we  die  to-morrow,  there  is  little 
To  choose.     No  man  may  speak 
When  once  the  Norns  have  spoken. 

LAY  OF  HAMDIR. 

UT  not  all  the  Prankish  host 
perished  by  the  Vascon  missiles. 
As  Roland  and  his  hundred 
horsemen  charged  after  Olvir 
upon  the  wall  which  barred  the 
gorge,  the  fiery  Moslems  an- 
swered the  Northern  battle- 
shouts  with  shrill  yells,  and  the 
foremost  among  them  leaped 
their  coursers  over  the  barrier, 
to  rush  upon  the  Franks.  A  hundred  or  more  had  crossed 
the  wall  before  the  slower  Prankish  horses  could  meet 
them ;  and  the  treacherous  Vascons  above,  only  too  willing 
that  their  allies  should  win  more  of  wounds  than  plunder, 
hastened  away  to  share  in  the  looting  of  the  baggage-train. 
Of  all  the  riders  who  had  turned  to  follow  their  count,  two 
only  were  slain  by  Vascon  arrows.  The  others,  stung  to 
desperate  fury  by  the  shrieks  of  those  behind  them  in  the 
gorge,  thundered  after  their  leader  with  brandished  blades. 
"  On,  men !  on ! "  cried  Roland.  "  The  dogs  leap  to 
meet  us !  On,  and  strike  them  down ! " 

"  Hett !  heu  I  Christ  and  king !    Down  with  the  pagans ! " 
roared  back  the  Franks,  and  they  crashed  at  full  gallop  into 

232 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


the  mass  of  charging  Saracens.  The  shock  was  frightful. 
Hurled  back  by  the  massive  strength  of  the  Prankish 
horses,  the  graceful  desert  coursers  were  either  overthrown 
and  trampled  underfoot  with  their  riders,  or  crushed  back 
upon  the  barrier. 

In  a  twinkling  Franks  and  Saracens  were  mingled 
in  the  death-grapple,  —  a  furious  hand-to-hand  struggle, 
where  all  the  vantage  lay  with  the  heavy-armed  Northern- 
ers. Only  the  closeness  of  the  jam  kept  the  Franks  from 
at  once  shattering  the  whole  Saracen  band.  Vengeance 
lent  double  force  to  their  blows. 

Side  by  side  on  their  black  Arabs,  the  foster-brothers 
thrust  in  among  the  yelling  Moslems.  Roland,  high  in  his 
stirrups,  was  wielding  his  ponderous  Norse  sword  in  both 
hands.  Where  Ironbiter  fell,  shields  and  iron  casques 
were  shattered  like  glass,  and  their  bearers  hurled  down  as 
though  struck  by  a  sledge.  The  Frank's  blue  eyes  flamed 
with  white  fire,  his  face  was  flushed,  and  his  powerful 
frame  quivered  with  rage.  As  he  struck,  he  ground  his 
teeth  savagely. 

But  Olvir's  fury  was  of  another  kind.  In  his  black 
eyes  was  the  bright,  cold  glitter  of  the  striking  snake's. 
Unlike  the  Frank  count,  he  crouched  low  in  the  saddle; 
and  from  beneath  his  little  steel  shield  Al-hatif  darted  out 
incessantly,  like  the  beak  of  a  heron.  The  Frank's  sword- 
play  was  more  appalling  to  the  eye,  but  the  Northman's 
was  the  deadlier.  So  swift  and  fatal  was  Al-hatif's  thrust 
that  many  were  slain  before  they  were  aware  of  the  danger. 

Close  on  the  sword-brothers  came  the  Frankish  horse- 
men, hewing  and  slashing  with  sword  and  double-bladed 
axe.  Twice  the  number  of  the  Saracens  could  not  have 
withstood  such  an  attack.  The  slender-limbed  Arabs  and 
Berbers  were  fairly  crushed  by  their  big  foes.  Less  than 
a  score  in  the  rear  managed  to  free  themselves  from  the 

233 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

jam  and  escape  the  slaughter  by  leaping  back  over  the 
barrier. 

The  Franks,  recking  little  of  their  own  loss,  trampled 
forward  over  the  slain,  in  hot  pursuit  of  the  fugitives.  The 
rout  drew  from  them  a  roar  of  triumph,  and  they  rushed 
forward,  only  to  recoil  in  rage  and  despair.  The  barrier 
was  far  too  high  for  their  heavy  horses  to  leap,  and  its 
timbers  had  been  too  firmly  knit  together  to  be  easily  torn 
apart.  But  the  main  body  of  the  Saracens,  hindered  by 
their  retreating  fellows  of  the  van,  had  not  yet  closed  upon 
the  farther  side  of  the  wall.  Olvir  was  quick  to  see  the 
vantage. 

"  Ho,  Franks !  "  he  called.  "  Your  horses  cannot  leap ; 
afoot  and  follow  me!  Behind  pours  the  Vascon  hail;  be- 
fore lies  the  sword-path.  Let  us  die  like  men ! " 

"  Lead  on ! "  roared  the  horsemen,  and  they  sprang 
from  their  saddles  to  rush  upon  the  barrier. 

Olvir  turned  to  Roland,  his  look  strangely  soft. 

"  Farewell  for  a  little  while,  brother,"  he  said.  "  We 
are  fated ;  the  valkyries  call  us." 

But  Roland  smiled  grimly,  and  reined  back  his  black 
stallion  for  the  leap. 

"Saint  Michael!"  he  cried.  "Life,  not  death,  is  be- 
fore us!  We'll  cut  our  way  through  the  midst  of 
the  pagans.  Heul  heal  Christ  and  king!  Follow  me, 
men!" 

Already  Olvir's  courser  was  leaping  the  barrier,  clean 
and  light  as  a  gazehound.  No  less  gallantly  the  stallion 
sprang  forward  and  leaped  in  turn.  But  the  feat  was  be- 
yond his  power.  Borne  down  by  the  weight  of  his  rider, 
he  failed  to  clear  the  wall.  His  forelegs  struck  against  the 
crest,  and  he  fell  headlong  on  the  farther  side.  Roland, 
though  hurled  violently  to  the  ground,  sprang  up  at  once ; 
but  the  stallion  lay  where  he  fell. 


" '  Love ! '  she  cried,  half  hissing  the  word.    '  You  speak 
of  love, — you,  the  heathen  outlander ! ' "  [Page  163 


FB 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Olvir  wheeled  his  horse  before  the  count,  to  shield  him 
from  the  flights  of  Saracen  darts  and  arrows  which  came 
whistling  about  them. 

"  Forward,  men !  forward,  and  wedge !  "  he  cried ; 
and  the  Franks,  with  a  wild  shout,  came  swarming  over 
the  wall. 

"  Wedge,  men !  wedge ! "  shouted  Roland,  as  he 
sprang  out  in  the  lead.  But  the  dismounted  horsemen, 
unused  to  the  movement,  were  slow  in  forming.  Before 
their  ranks  could  lock  shields,  the  Saracens  charged  upon 
them.  Line  after  line,  the  Moslem  horse  came  leaping 
along  the  gorge  in  close  order,  three  hundred  swift  coursers, 
three  hundred  turbaned  riders  shrieking  their  war-cries. 

Before  the  fierce  attack  the  half-formed  line  of  Franks 
wavered,  and  more  than  one  warrior  glanced  about  at  the 
wall.  But  Roland  clashed  Ironbiter  against  his  shield  and 
cried  cheerily :  "  Stand  fast,  my  Rhine  wolves,  —  stand, 
and  strike  for  Christ  and  king !  " 

"Christ  aid!  Christ  and  king!  Heu!  bevl"  came 
back  the  deep  roar  of  the  Franks. 

No  longer  did  any  look  about  at  the  barrier.  All  bent 
forward  in  their  places,  and  as  the  flying  mass  of  Saracens 
crashed  upon  their  half-formed  wedge,  they  met  the  enemy 
with  mighty  blows  of  axe  and  sword  and  war-hammer. 
Down  went  the  foremost  line  of  horses,  and  their  riders 
fell  slain  with  them ;  down  went  the  second  line,  the  third. 
Yet  relentlessly  the  Moslems  thrust  forward,  trampling 
over  the  bodies  of  their  fallen  leaders,  to  hurl  themselves 
against  the  Frankish  shieldwall. 

Soon  the  Northern  warriors  began  to  give  ground  be- 
fore the  incessant  shocks.  Arrows  and  darts  whirred  into 
their  midst  from  the  Saracen  rear,  and  many  fell,  pierced 
in  throat  or  face.  Others  were  crushed  by  the  plunging 
horses,  or  thrust  with  lances  through  the  joints  of  their 

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FOR    THE'WHITE    CHRIST 

rude  armor ;  but  most  of  all  met  their  fate  under  the  keen- 
edged  scimetars. 

The  first  impetus  of  the  Saracen  charge  was  quickly 
lost;  but  the  dark  riders  gave  the  hated  Afranj  not  a 
moment's  time  to  gain  breath.  Their  massed  ranks  closed 
up  against  the  Franks,  and  overbore  them  with  the  sheer 
weight  of  the  horses. 

In  vain  Roland  fought  with  a  strength  and  skill  such 
as  no  other  Frank  than  Karl  himself  might  have  equalled ; 
in  vain  Olvir,  his  face  white  to  the  lips  and  rigid  with  cold 
fury,  spurred  his  courser  forward  into  the  mass  of  the 
Saracens,  and  struck  down  warriors  to  right  and  left  with 
his  lightning  stabs. 

Had  there  been  room  for  retreat,  the  foremost  Mos- 
lems would  have  shrunk  away  from  the  attack  of  the 
sword-brothers ;  but  they  had  no  choice.  Penned  between 
the  cliffs,  they  were  forced  on  by  their  fellows  behind, 
without  hope  of  escape  other  than  in  victory.  In  their  rear 
rode  Kasim  Ibn  Yusuf  and  a  score  of  chosen  men,  threaten- 
ing with  instant  death  any  who  should  turn.  So,  yelling 
with  desperate  rage,  the  Moslems  continued  to  fling  them- 
selves upon  the  Afranj,  each  fiercely  striving  to  cut  down 
at  least  one  unbeliever  before  he  himself  fell  beneath  the 
trampling  hoofs. 

At  last  the  blows  of  the  Franks  began  to  lessen  in 
force.  Wearied  by  the  furious  struggle,  and  spent  by 
wounds  and  blood-loss,  increasing  numbers  sank  beneath 
the  steadily  advancing  hoofs.  Only  with  the  utmost  effort 
could  those  who  were  left  close  the  many  gaps  in  their 
thinning  ranks. 

"  The  end  draws  near,  brother !  "  cried  Roland ;  and  he 
drew  back  with  his  men,  undaunted,  but  so  wearied  that  he 
could  hardly  swing  Ironbiter. 

"  Oh,  for  two  score  of  my  sea-wolves,  with  Floki  at 
.  236 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

their  head !  "  called  back  Olvir,  bitterly.  "  We  should  soon 
rend  our  path  through  the  midst  of  these  swart  hounds. 
Thor !  Yonder  rides  the  poisoner !  I  '11  cut  my  way  to 
him,  or  die !  " 

But  as  the  Northman  sought  to  spur  his  horse  farther 
into  the  dense  jam  of  Saracens,  Roland's  voice  rang  out  in 
a  despairing  cry :  "  Brother  —  brother !  Farewell !  " 

Then  berserk  rage  seized  upon  the  Northman.  He 
wrenched  his  horse  about,  and  turned  straight  across  the 
fore  of  the  Saracens,  his  eyes  glaring  and  the  froth  drip- 
ping from  his  lips.  For  the  moment  he  was  a  madman, 
and  had  all  the  madman's  strength.  Al-hatif  no  longer 
thrust  out,  but  glittered  in  wide  strokes  that  slashed 
through  the  firmest  mail.  The  viking's  attack  was  so  ter- 
rible that  the  bravest  of  the  Moslems  sought  to  avoid  him ; 
and  though  he  fought  utterly  heedless  of  guard,  fear  so 
weakened  their  arms  that  their  blows  fell  without  harm 
on  his  helmet  and  mail-serk. 

Striking  down  all  in  his  path,  Olvir  cut  his  way  with- 
out check  to  the  spot  where  Roland,  shieldless  and  utterly 
spent,  reeled  back  under  the  blows  of  the  enemy.  Warned 
by  the  shrieks  of  their  fellows,  the  count's  assailants  turned 
to  meet  the  raving  Northman.  But  already  Olvir  was 
upon  them,  and  Al-hatif  whistled  in  vengeful  strokes. 

Then  the  blood-mist  cleared  from  the  Northman's 
eyes,  and  he  wheeled  his  horse  around  beside  Roland. 

"  Close,  men !  close !  "  he  cried.  "  One  more  rally,  and 
we  die  together !  Ho,  brother ;  I  come !  stand  back !  " 

But  the  dying  Frank  glared  past  his  sword-brother. 
With  a  terrible  cry  he  swung  up  Ironbiter  and  hurled  the 
blade  into  the  midst  of  the  Saracens.  It  was  the  last  deed 
of  the  hero.  As  the  great  sword  whirled  from  his  grasp, 
he  reeled  and  would  have  fallen,  had  not  Olvir  bent  to  catch 
him. 

237 


i 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Putting  out  all  his  strength,  the  Northman  drew  the 
great  Frank  up  before  him  on  the  saddle.  Then  the  black 
courser  leaped  with  his  double  burden  to  the  barrier,  while 
behind  him  the  bare  score  of  Franks  yet  standing  formed 
in  shieldburg  to  guard  their  dying  count. 

Tenderly  Olvir  laid  his  friend  on  the  crest  of  the  wall, 
and  drew  the  broken  helmet  from  the  tawny  hair,  already 
clotted  with  blood.  The  hero's  eyes  were  fast  dimming; 
but  his  cold  hand  closed  on  Olvir's  fingers,  and  he  mur- 
mured brokenly:  "Ha,  brother  —  Christ  and  king!  — 
We've  fought  — a  good  fight!" 

"  We  have  fought !  "  cried  Olvir.  "  Now  we  die.  Wait 
here  for  me,  brother ;  I  will  soon  join  you ! " 

But  Roland  clutched  at  the  turning  Northman,  and  his 
voice  rang  out  clear  and  strong  above  the  Saracen  yells  and 
the  clash  of  weapons :  "  Stay,  Olvir !  Not  death  to  you, 
but  life,  —  life  and  vengeance !  To  the  king,  brother !  You 
alone  may  scale  the  cliff !  " 

"  Go  —  go,  lord  count !  "  shouted  the  horsemen.  "  We 
die;  but  the  king  shall  avenge!  Go,  tell  him  of  the 
traitors !  " 

"While  my  brother  breathes  I  will  not  leave  him," 
replied  Olvir,  and  he  bent  from  the  saddle  to  embrace  the 
count.  Then  sudden  grief  fell  upon  him.  The  blue  eyes 
were  glazed,  the  noble  face  ghastly  with  the  death-pallor. 
Olvir  stared  down  upon  the  torn  and  bloody  corpse,  his 
heart  wrung  with  bitter  grief. 

But  it  was  no  time  for  mourning.  Thicker  than  ever, 
the  arrows  came  whistling  overhead  and  upon  the  barrier, 
and  one  struck  the  black  courser  through  the  neck.  Roused 
by  the  beast's  wild  bound,  Olvir  sat  up  and  gazed  alertly 
about  him.  Already  the  Saracens  were  thrusting  back  the 
Prankish  shieldwall. 

"  Au  my  fleet  one !  "  cried  Olvir.  "  Even  you  are 
218 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

stricken.  But  you  have  yet  to  save  your  rider.  Bear  me 
over  the  wall  and  back  through  the  death-gorge." 

Though  quivering  with  pain,  the  black  courser  heeded 
instantly  the  voice  and  touch  of  his  master.  Lightly  as  a 
gazelle  he  bounded  up  and  over  the  barrier,  and  fled  along 
the  bloody  gorge  at  racing  speed. 

Though  the  way  was  heaped  with  rocks  and  logs  and 
the  bodies  of  men  and  horses,  the  black  courser  raced  on 
unchecked  until,  swinging  around  a  sharp  bend,  he  all  but 
ran  upon  a  Prankish  horse  coming  up  the  gorge. 

"  Anselm !  "  shouted  Olvir  —  "  you  live  ?  Thor !  We 
shall  both  go  free !  Turn  back !  Yonder 's  a  cranny  in  the 
cliff  —  turn  back !  " 

"  No,  Olvir ;  I  could  not  climb ! "  gasped  the  count, 
and  he  pointed  to  the  splintered  shaft  of  a  javelin,  fast  in 
his  side. 

"  You  're  wounded,  friend !  " 

"Where's  Roland?" 

"  Slain,  —  slain  by  the  swart  dogs !  His  body  lies  on 
the  wall  crest.  Before  it  fall  the  last  of  the  horsemen.  I 
alone  have  fled." 

"  And  I  alone  come  from  the  Vascon  hail.  I  alone 
live ;  and  now  —  But  you,  hero ;  you  're  yet  unharmed ; 
hasten  up  out  of  the  bloody  pit.  To  the  king  —  to  the 
king!" 

"  I  have  fled  once.    I  stay  here  till  you  die." 

"  No,  Holy  Mother,  no !  Fly,  hero !  You  alone  may 
bear  the  evil  word.  The  Vascons  turn  to  loot  the  slain,  — 
I  hear  yells  behind  you.  Fly !  " 

"  Let  them  come.  Fenir  tear  me  if  I  leave  you, 
living!" 

"  Then  shall  your  stay  be  brief! "  cried  Anselm. 

With  one  hand  he  tore  loose  the  clasps  of  his  hauberk ; 
with  the  other  he  grasped  his  dagger.  Before  Olvir  could 

239 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

cry  out  or  grasp  his  arm,  he  had  struck  himself  to  the 
heart. 

A  groan  burst  from  Olvir's  lips  as  he  sprang  off  to 
catch  the  body  of  the  count.  Gently  he  drew  it  from  the 
saddle  and  stooped  to  the  ground.  But  as  he  bent,  the 
horses  snorted  in  terror.  Loosening  his  hold  of  the  Frank, 
Olvir  rose  up  just  as  a  boulder,  hurtling  from  the  cliff, 
shattered  upon  an  out  jutting  ledge  and  flew  about  him  in 
a  hundred  fragments.  He  heard  his  courser  scream,  and 
felt  himself  hurled  back  as  though  struck  by  the  axe  of 
Otkar  Jotuntop. 

In  a  moment  he  was  up  again,  the  blood  spurting  from 
a  terrible  wound  just  below  the  collar  of  his  mail-serk. 
The  sharp  point  of  a  whirling  rock  had  torn  through  his 
threefold  mail,  snapped  the  bone  beneath,  and  laid  open  his 
chest.  But  for  the  thick  strand  of  Rothada's  hair,  he  would 
never  again  have  risen.  Though  severed  by  the  sharp- 
edged  stone,  the  strand  had  helped  to  break  its  blow.  As 
he  rose,  the  loosened  plait  came  slipping  down  his  breast, 
and,  half  dazed,  he  thrust  it  in  through  the  rent  in  his  mail. 

Then  his  eye  fell  upon  the  black  courser,  standing  in 
dumb  anguish.  Other  fragments  of  the  fatal  rock  had 
struck  down  Anselm's  horse  and  broken  the  Arab's  fore- 
leg. Forgetful  of  his  own  wound,  Olvir  sprang  to  the 
faithful  beast  and  kissed  his  white-starred  forehead. 

"  Farewell,  fleet  one !  You  have  served  me  true.  May 
we  meet  again  in  Paradise ! "  he  said,  and  then,  swift  and 
sure,  the  point  of  Al-hatif  pierced  the  courser's  heart. 

A  burst  of  triumphant  yells  re-echoed  down  the  gorge. 
The  last  Frank  had  fallen.  At  the  warning,  Olvir  thrust 
the  scarlet  blade  back  in  its  sheath  and  ran  swiftly  across 
the  gorge. 

"  Now  do  all  lie  slain,"  he  muttered ;  "  and  I  —  I  go  to 
bear  the  tidings,  if  so  the  Norns  will.  Here  is  a  cleft,  —  I 

240 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

can  yet  climb ;  but  if  the  feeblest  of  foes  lies  in  wait  on  the 
crest,  he  may  cast  me  down." 

Thrusting  the  corner  of  his  cloak  in  upon  his  wound, 
Olvir  sprang  up  the  cliff  foot  and  began  the  ascent  of  its 
all  but  perpendicular  face.  Though  every  movement  of  his 
injured  shoulder  cost  him  terrible  agony,  he  climbed  with 
the  utmost  haste ;  for  on  the  one  side  he  could  see  advanc- 
ing parties  of  the  plunder-laden  Vascons,  while  on  the 
other,  Moslem  yells  of  victory  rang  near  around  the  turn. 
So  swiftly  did  he  scale  the  cliff  that  he  had  gained  a  side 
ledge  which  sloped  up  to  its  crest  before  the  Saracens  raced 
into  view. 

Overcome  by  exertion  and  the  anguish  of  his  wound, 
he  paused  for  a  time  at  the  top  of  the  cranny,  too  faint  and 
giddy  to  attempt  the  narrow  ledge.  But  the  pursuers,  far 
below  in  the  gorge  bottom,  never  thought  to  look  up  for 
their  quarry  where  all  along  was  sheer  precipice.  For  a 
little  they  circled  about  the  bodies  of  the  black  courser  and 
the  Frank  count,  like  hounds  which  have  over-shot  the 
scent;  then  they  raced  on  through  the  gorge.  Not  until 
they  came  upon  the  advancing  Vascons  and  learned  that 
the  fugitive  had  not  passed  that  way,  did  they  turn  back 
to  scan  the  cliffs.  But  they  saw  no  warrior  clinging  to  the 
dizzy  ledges. 

Urged  on  by  the  peril  of  discovery,  Olvir  had  crept 
sideways  up  the  ledge,  even  as  the  Saracens  galloped  away. 
The  rock,  as  he  slipped  along  its  face,  seemed  to  reel  and 
thrust  out  against  him,  so  that  at  each  slow  step  he  thought 
to  hurl  down  into  the  chasm.  It  was  well  for  him  that  in 
his  boyhood  he  had  climbed  for  the  nests  of  sea-fowl  on 
cliffs  yet  dizzier.  The  rock  was  swaying  before  his  dark- 
ened gaze.  Instinctively  he  drew  himself  upward.  At  last 
he  was  bending  over  the  cliff's  edge.  Then  darkness  fell 
upon  him,  and  he  sank  forward  in  a  death-like  swoon. 
16  241 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

But  life  lay  strong  in  the  breast  of  the  sea-king.  In  a 
little  he  sighed  and  half  turned.  His  opening  eyes  gazed 
sideways  along  the  cliff's  edge.  A  hundred  paces  or  so  dis- 
tant, over  a  projection  of  the  rock,  he  saw  the  tops  of  a  pair 
of  turbans.  Stung  to  instant  action  by  the  sight,  he  drew 
himself  up  from  the  brink  of  the  cliff,  and  crept  over  the 
rocks  toward  a  little  fir  wood  on  the  slope  above.  Within 
a  spear's  length  the  heads  and  shoulders  of  the  two  Sara- 
cens came  into  view;  but  both  men  were  leaning  over  the 
brink  of  the  precipice,  staring  down  at  the  wild  scene  in  the 
gorge  bottom. 

"  Odin  blind  the  Asiamen !  "  he  muttered,  and  he  glided 
like  a  wounded  weasel  over  the  bare  space  which  lay  be- 
tween him  and  safety. 

At  last  he  gained  the  first  tree.  He  was  safe  from  the 
swart  watchers.  But  then  something  stirred  in  the  midst 
of  the  young  firs,  a  few  feet  before  him.  A  groan  rose  to 
his  lips.  He  sank  down,  only  to  grip  his  sword-hilt  and 
rise  again,  the  bared  blade  ready  to  strike.  His  lips  pressed 
together  in  a  smile  of  grim  despair,  and  he  crept  forward 
again.  Something  showed  through  the  fir  twigs.  He 
peered  under  the  branches  into  a  tiny  glade.  There,  within 
half-a-dozen  steps,  stood  Zora  his  red  mare,  tethered  beside 
two  other  coursers,  and  no  man  was  in  sight. 


242 


CHAPTER  XXVII 


Then  Brynhild  laughed 
Till  the  walls  rang  again: 
"  Good  luck 


To  your  hands  and  swords 
That  have  felled 
The  goodly  prince  ! " 

LAY  OF  SIGURD. 


IDWAY  down  the  valley  of  the 
Little  Nive  the  warriors  of  the 
Prankish  host  lay  at  ease  about 
their  fires,  while  across  the  camp 
fell  the  shadow  of  the  early 
mountain  twilight.  All  alike 
were  merry ;  for  now  the  rugged 
fells  were  passed;  the  sun- 
scorched  Saracen  Land  lay  be- 
hind. In  the  morning  the  great 
train  of  plunder-laden  carts  and  wains  would  be  allotted, 
and  each  folk-levy  would  journey  home  by  its  own  way, 
to  enjoy  the  war-loot. 

Not  the  least  merry  in  the  host  were  the  king's  "  men," 
gathered  about  the  royal  pavilion.  Messengers  had  come 
from  Casseneuil  with  confirmation  of  the  queen's  good 
health,  and  the  welcome  tidings  that  old  Rudulf,  the  Grey 
Wolf,  had  come  leaping  out  of  the  Sorb  Mark  in  the  nick 
of  time,  to  save  Fulda  from  the  ravaging  Saxons.  With 
Teutoric,  Count  of  the  Frisian  Mark,  sweeping  across  West- 
phalia toward  Paderborn,  and  Gerold  and  Worad  making 
for  the  harried  Rhinegau  by  forced  marches  through  Aus- 
trasia,  none  might  doubt  that  the  wolves  of  Odin  would 
soon  be  fleeing  back  to  their  forests  with  aching  teeth. 

243 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

In  celebration  of  the  fair  tidings,  Karl  had  relaxed  his 
usual  abstemiousness,  and  was  drinking  freely  with  his 
lords  at  the  door  of  his  tent.  All  about  the  royal  seat  the 
Franks  stood  laughing  and  jesting.  The  king  himself  sat 
smiling  in  careless  amusement  at  one  of  the  gay  groups 
where  Rothada  and  Liutrad  played  at  tag  with  the  pages 
about  Abbot  Fulrad. 

But  back  in  the  dark  recess  of  the  pavilion  was  another 
group,  whose  members  gulped  their  wine  from  shaking 
goblets,  and  peered  out  at  the  wassailers  with  little  merri- 
ment in  their  looks.  Crouched  in  the  corner  behind  the 
others  was  Kosru,  the  Magian  leech,  muttering  plaintive 
invocations  to  his  sun-god. 

"  It  cannot  now  be  long.  The  word  will  soon  come," 
growled  Hardrat,  who,  though  drinking  even  more  immod- 
erately than  usual,  was  kept  sober  by  the  intense  strain. 
The  Magian  edged  a  little  nearer  the  thickset  Thuringian. 

"  The  word  will  soon  come,"  he  echoed  in  a  trembling 
voice. 

"And  we  crouch  here  like  witless  oafs,"  rejoined 
Fastrada.  "  Come ;  there 's  nothing  to  betray  us  but 
our  own  faces.  Let  us  go  out  and  make  merry  with  the 
others." 

"Well  spoken,  daughter  of  Rudulf!  This  time  our 
great  plot  has  failed ;  yet  our  enemy  will  soon  have  cause 
enough  for  grief.  We  will  go  out  and  rejoice  at  the  tidings 
which  shall  soon  blacken  his  merrymaking.  Come.  The 
good  wine  has  put  heart  into  me,"  answered  Hardrat,  and 
he  stooped  to  grasp  Kosru  by  the  arm.  But  the  Magian 
was  palsied  with  terror ;  and  while  Fastrada  lingered  beside 
him,  in  a  vain  attempt  to  overcome  his  fear,  Hardrat  came 
springing  back  from  behind  the  king's  seat. 

"  Stay ! "  he  cried.  "  Here  comes  a  rider,  fleeing  down 
the  valley." 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


The  *wordl "    Seized  with  a  second  panic,  the  plotters 
drew  back  again  into  the  depths  of  the  tent. 

A  sudden  hush  had  fallen  upon  the  merrymakers  about 
the  king.  All  had  turned,  with  paling  cheeks,  to  gaze  up 
the  road.  Down  the  valley  a  red  Arab  courser  was  racing 
as  for  life,  and  upon  the  flying  beast  sat  a  blood-stained 
figure  which  swayed  and  reeled  in  the  saddle  like  a  drunken 
man. 

The  king  sprang  up  beside  Fulrad. 

"God's  wounds!"  he  cried.  "What  mummery  is 
this?" 

But  then  from  the  viking  camp  in  the  rear  burst  out  a 
terrible  shout,  and  the  lofty  figure  of  Floki  the  Crane  came 
rushing  through  the  midst  of  the  Franks. 

"  Olvir !  Olvir !  —  my  earl  —  my  bright  one ! "  he  cried ; 
and  as  Liutrad  sprang  in  and  halted  the  red  mare  at  the 
edge  of  the  gathering,  Floki's  long  arm  caught  her  rider 
from  the  saddle.  But  it  was  Rothada  who  took  the  king's 
flagon  out  of  the  cupbearer's  hand  and  ran  to  place  it  at 
the  lips  of  the  Northman. 

The  fiery  wine  lent  new  strength  to  the  fainting 
messenger.  He  drew  away  from  Floki  and  faced  the 
king. 

"  Vengeance !  —  vengeance,  lord  king !  "  he  gasped. 
"  Slain  is  the  Hero  —  my  brother  —  and  all  his  host !  I 
alone  come  forth  alive  —  I  alone  —  to  call  for  vengeance !  " 

Karl's  eyes  blazed  with  terrible  anger. 

"  Whose  is  the  guilt?  "  he  demanded. 

But  Olvir  was  reeling.  Blood  gushed  from  his  mouth. 
He  fell  back  into  Floki's  arms  like  one  dead. 

Quivering  with  rage  and  grief,  the  giant  raised  his  earl 
as  though  a  child,  and  turned  upon  the  king. 

"  Thor!  "  he  roared.  "  Do  you  still  stand  idle?  Who 
rules  the  fell-folk?  " 

245 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"Ha!  Lupus,  —  that  bastard  fox!"  cried  Karl. 
"Where's  Hardrat?  Stay;  'tis  a  deed  for  his  own 
men;  they  will  not  fail.  You  shall  lead  them  yourself, 
Crane,  —  you  and  Liutrad.  Those  who  have  horses,  let 
them  ride;  the  rest  follow  as  best  they  may.  Five  thou- 
sand of  my  Austrasians  shall  come  after.  Here  is  my 
seal-ring.  Go  swiftly  to  Bordeaux,  and  seize  the  Vascon 
Wolf!" 

Without  a  word,  Floki  laid  his  earl  upon  the  ground 
and  ran  to  turn  back  the  wild  rush  of  vikings  who  came 
seething  around  the  pavilion.  Liutrad  paused  to  lay  his 
hand  on  Olvir's  bloody  breast  and  mutter  a  vow.  Then, 
leading  Zora  by  the  bridle,  he  ran  after  Floki. 

As  the  crowd  parted  before  the  Norse  leaders,  Karl 
knelt  down  beside  their  stricken  earl. 

"The  leech,  — Where's  the  outland  leech?"  he  de- 
manded. 

Back  in  the  pavilion  the  plotters  dragged  Kosru  to  his 
feet. 

"  Hist,  Magian!  "  cried  Hardrat.  "  The  king  calls;  I 
know  that  tone.  Woe  to  you  if  you  fail  to  heed ! " 

"A^  God  of  Light!  I  cannot,  noble  lords.  My  limbs 
fail  —  " 

"  Here 's  the  spur,  dotard,"  said  Hardrat,  brutally,  and 
he  shook  his  dagger  in  the  leech's  face. 

"  Go,  friend,"  urged  Fastrada. 

Reassured  by  her  look,  Kosru  threw  his  cloak  about  his 
head,  and  ran,  tottering,  out  beside  the  king. 

But  the  fear-stricken  Magian  left  behind  him  others 
little  less  overcome.  As  he  passed  through  the  entrance, 
Fastrada  turned  upon  Hardrat. 

"  Oaf!  sluggard!  "  she  hissed.  "  You  loiter  here,  and 
the  chance  is  gone.  Others  ride  first  to  Bordeaux.  Lupus 
will  be  taken." 

246 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  Thuringian  turned,  snarling;  but  Fastrada  was 
already  calm  again. 

"  Why  wrangle,  count?  "  she  said.  "  What  is  done  is 
done.  Lupus  is  lost." 

"  And  we  with  him !  He  will  tell  all  to  save  his  own 
skin.  Who  trusts  a  Merwing?  " 

"  No,  no,"  insisted  Fastrada.  "  His  is  too  crafty  a 
nature.  He  could  not  speak  straightforward  if  he  wished. 
There  may  be  danger  if  his  trial  is  kept  waiting;  but  if 
that  happens  my  knowledge  of  the  king  is  at  fault." 

"  You  are  right,  maiden,"  muttered  Hardrat,  and  he 
drew  a  deep  breath. 

Fastrada  laughed  low  and  softly,  —  a  laugh  at  sound  of 
which  her  fellow-plotter  drew  away  from  her,  shuddering. 

"  What  do  we  care  for  Lupus  ?  "  she  said.  "  We  shall 
yet  win  success;  and  —  and  him  whom  I  hated  I  have 
slain!" 

Hardrat  crossed  himself  hastily. 

"  Saints  shield  us  from  werwolves !  "  he  mumbled. 

But  Fastrada  flung  herself  face  down  upon  the  earth. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 


Of  fourteen  winters  was  I, 
If  thou  listeth  to  wot, 


When  I  swore  to  the  young  lord 
Oaths  of  love. 

HEL-RIDE  OP  BRYNHILD. 


O,  there !  Can  this  be  Niflheim? 
Why  is  my  voice  so  weak?  I 
cannot  lift  my  arm.  If  this  is 
the  under-world,  I  would  look 
upon  the  blue  and  white  face  of 
Hel.  Ho,  there!  Who  hearkens 
to  Olvir,  son  of  Thorbiorn?  " 

"  Peace,     ring-breaker! 
You're    yet    in    Manheim," 

•  ^BSKMI  croaked     a    well-known    voice. 

"When  Olvir  Elfkin  goes  hence,  Odin,  not  Hel,  shall 
claim  his  spirit.  Now  lie  still,  for  a  blood-fire  has  burned 
within  your  skull  these  twelve  days  gone." 

"  Paul !  I  Ve  dreamt  dreams  of  ill  omen.  What  tid- 
ings of  the  Wolf  Duke  ?" 

"  He  hangs  in  chains  with  his  namesake.  Before  the 
Frank  could  strike,  Asiamen  and  fell-folk  had  fled  to  safety 
with  their  bloody  spoil.  But  Liutrad  and  I  took  the  traitor 
earl  even  as  he  was  flying  from  his  burg.  Short  shrift  did 
the  Frank  give  him.  Eight  nights  he  has  ridden  on  the 
tree." 

Olvir  uttered  a  hollow  laugh:  "Then  this  night  he 
should  be  wise  as  Odin." 

"  Thor !  "  cried  Floki ;  "  that  is  a  welcome  laugh.  Now 
shall  you  surely  live." 

248 


J 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  I  laugh  with  a  sore  heart.    What  of  my  brother? 

"They  build  him  a  hero's  mound  in  the  dewy 
valley." 

"  Would  that  I  might  see  it!  " 

"  That  you  shall,  ring-breaker,  when  your  strength 
comes  again.  Yours  is  the  right  to  ward  the  hero's  mound 
and  to  seek  vengeance  upon  his  slayers.  For  listen,  son  of 
Thorbiorn :  When  the  king  fared  north,  though  you  yet  lay 
as  a  dying  man,  he  named  you  Earl  of  the  Vascon  Mark. 
From  Toulouse  to  Bordeaux,  from  the  Garonne  to  the 
Pyrenees,  you  are  earl  and  hersir.  The  sons  of  Lupus  are 
borne  off  to  the  king's  hall.  Where  the  Wolf  Duke  ruled, 
you  rule." 

"Earl  — of  the  Vascon  Mark!"  muttered  Olvir. 
"  Now,  by  Thor,  if  the  men  stay  by  me  —  " 

"  All  stay  but  Liutrad." 

"  Liutrad !    I  'd  have  thought  him  the  last  after  you — " 

"  The  king's  will,  earl.  The  Frank  is  minded  to  do 
well  by  the  lad.  For  his  good  and  the  pleasure  of  the  king, 
you  will  not  forbid.  The  king  looks  only  to  your  welfare. 
While  we  raced  away  to  take  thrall  the  Wolf  Duke,  the 
king  put  you  in  the  care  of  Kosru,  that  outland  warlock. 
The  man's  own  head  was  in  pledge  against  your  death. 
Between  his  wizardry  and  the  care  of  the  little  vala,  Hel's 
hand  was  thrust  back  from  you.  But  now  that  you  grasp 
firmly  at  life  again,  Liutrad  should  be  faring  away  north,  to 
return  the  old  warlock  to  the  king's  household,  and  to  bear 
back  the  little  vala  to  the  nun-women  at  Chelles,  whence 
she  came." 

"  To  the  cloister,  —  to  the  pale  nun-women !  By  Loki ! 
that  shall  not  be ;  she  shall  not  become  one  of  that  crew  — 


"  Settle  that  with  the  maiden,' 
slipped  softly  from  the  room. 

249 


rejoined  Floki,  and  he 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  He  has  gone  —  he  has  left  me  alone ! "  exclaimed 
Olvir,  and,  in  his  great  weakness,  he  could  have  wept.  But 
then  a  little  maiden  came  darting  across  the  room  and 
knelt  to  clasp  his  wasted  hands. 

"  Rothada  —  little  may !  "  he  cried.  "  What 's  this  I 
hear?  You  go  to  the  cloister?  " 

"  Back  to  Gisela  and  the  blessed  sisters,  Lord  Olvir. 
My  heart  aches  with  this  terrible  world-life.  I  cannot  bear 
the  hatred  and  cruelties  of  it  all.  I  seek  peace  where  my 
mother  died." 

"  You  shall  not  stay,  —  you  shall  not  stay  for  all  time ! 
Bend  lower,  king's  daughter  —  little  vala  with  eyes  like 
dewy  violets !  —  lower  yet,  till  your  lips  press  upon  mine. 
So;  bravely  done,  sweetheart!  Now  lay  your  arm  about 
my  neck,  and  promise  me  —  by  your  tress  which  I  wore, 
by  my  ring  on  your  hand  —  you  will  not  take  the  cloister 
vows,  but  will  wait  —  let  the  time  be  long  or  brief  —  you 
will  wait  my  coming !  " 

Obediently  Rothada  clasped  her  arms  about  the  young 
sea-king's  neck,  and  with  her  face  hidden  close  against  his 
tangled  red-gold  hair  she  answered  him  softly :  "  I  promise, 
Olvir." 


BOOK    TWO 

Surely  know  I 

No  love  like  your  love 

Among  all  men  • 

On  the  mould  abiding! 

LAY   OF    GUDRUN, 


CHAPTER  I 

He  waxed  under  welkin  in  worth  and  honor 
till  the  folk  around  him,  far  and  near, 
.  .  .  hearkened  to  him. 

BEOWULF. 

OUR  long  years  had  come  and 
gone,  and  at  last  the  dreaded 
loss  had  fallen  upon  the  com- 
mon folk  of  Vascon  Land.  The 
rule  of  the  young  Dane  count, 
•who  from  the  first  had  dispensed 
a  justice  throughout  his  mark 
as  keen  and  as  bright  as  his  Sar- 
acen sword,  had  come  to  an  end. 
The  king  had  at  last  given  way 
to  the  request  of  Olvir,  whose  followers  had  become  un- 
utterably wearied  of  the  small  pleasure  to  be  gained  in 
hunting  out  thieves  and  lawless  lords ;  and  that  he  might 
do  honor  to  his  loyal  liegemen,  Karl  had  sent  as  special 
missi  Abbot  Fulrad  and  Count  Gerold  to  take  over  the 
mark. 

After  the  ceremony  the  missi  had  journeyed  on  to 
Toulouse  to  place  the  rulership  in  the  hands  of  Count 
William,  for  he  was  the  guardian  of  Louis,  the  survivor  of 
the  royal  twins  born  at  Casseneuil,  whom  Karl,  a  year 
since,  had  caused  the  Pope  to  anoint  as  King  of  Aquitania. 
When  they  came  sailing  back  down  the  Garonne  from 
Toulouse,  the  missi  found  the  five  longships  of  the  Norse 
fleet  lying  moored  at  Bordeaux,  all  newly  refitted  and 
scraped  and  painted,  in  readiness  for  the  voyage  north.  So 

253 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

it  chanced  that  the  two  Franks  had  clear  proof  of  the  nature 
of  Olvir's  rule;  for  the  quays  of  the  city  swarmed  with 
townfolk  who  had  come  to  bewail  the  departure  of  their 
just  count. 

"  Ah,  Olvir,"  cried  Abbot  Fulrad,  as  they  boarded  the 
Raven,  "  our  lord  king  did  well  to  keep  you  here  in  the 
South  all  these  years.  I  doubt  if  the  missi  will  bring  such 
satisfying  reports  of  William's  rule." 

"  There  will  be  some  who  will  not  grieve  at  my  going," 
answered  Olvir,  meaningly.  But  the  smile  left  his  firm  lips 
as  he  turned  to  gaze  at  the  sorrowful  crowds  on  the  quays. 
Gerold,  who  came  and  stood  beside  the  Northman,  had  lost 
little  of  his  old-time  boyishness ;  but  Olvir's  dark  face  was 
marked  by  the  lines  of  rulership  and  shadowed  by  habitual 
thought.  Floki  could  have  told  the  curious  guests  that 
during  the  past  two  years  his  earl  had  spent  no  small  part 
of  his  time  in  poring  over  the  runes  of  the  White  Christ 
and  the  strange  book  of  the  Asiamen  which  Count  Roland 
had  brought  to  his  foster-brother  with  the  gem-pouch,  out 
of  Saragossa. 

As  the  Raven  at  last  cast  off  from  the  moorings  and 
glided  away  down  the  Gironde  in  stately  lead  of  the  fleet, 
Olvir  waved  his  hand  to  the  weeping  townfolk,  and  turned 
quietly  to  Abbot  Fulrad. 

"  Liutrad  has  written  fully  of  your  bitter  Saxon  war," 
he  said.  "The  heroes  have  met  on  the  stricken  field.  Again 
you  have  beaten  Wittikind  back  into  the  North,  and  men 
say  that  the  war  has  been  fought  to  a  glorious  end.  Yet  I 
have  lain  here  in  the  South  with  sheathed  sword,  and  —  do 
not  grieve." 

"  You  may  well  say  that,  my  son !  "  exclaimed  Fulrad. 
"  Far  nobler  are  the  victories  of  peace  than  war-won  fame. 
If  you  have  lost  the  wild  joy  of  battle,  you  have  gained  the 
love  of  the  folk  you  ruled,  and  a  happiness  — " 

254 


?&e 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Love  and  happiness  ?  Ay ;  but  not  the  love  and 
happiness  for  which  I  long,"  sighed  Olvir,  and  his 
hand  went  to  the  double  strand  of  chestnut  hair  clasped 
around  his  throat.  "  Listen,  Father  Fulrad.  Liutrad 
once  wrote  that  he  had  told  you  of  my  betrothal.  It 
was  a  secret  which  promised  me  joy;  but  it  has  brought 
me  sorrow  instead.  Through  all  these  years  I  have 
sent  message  after  message  to  my  little  may,  ever  faith- 
ful to  my  pledge,  ever  longing  for  a  word  of  love  in 
answer.  But  she  is  silent,  —  she  has  forgotten  me  in 
your  cold  cloisters." 

"Forgotten!"  cried  Gerold,  in  protest.  But  Fulrad 
made  a  hasty  sign  to  him  to  be  silent,  and  answered  Olvir 
gravely:  "Be  patient,  my  son.  Much  may  chance  in  so  long 
a  time.  The  maiden  was  yet  a  child.  None  can  say  whether 
or  not  she  has  forgotten  you.  However  that  may  be,  bear 
in  mind  that  you  have  won  high  favor  in  the  king's  eye. 
That  alone  should  give  you  joy." 

"  Nor  have  you  altogether  lacked  the  joy  of  battle, 
Olvir,"  added  Gerold.  "  Liutrad  has  told  me  how,  at  the 
very  first,  you  searched  out  the  mountain  Vascons  in  their 
fastnesses,  and  avenged  the  death  of  Roland." 

"  Vengeance?  I  found  little  joy  in  that.  There  was 
more  in  the  finding  of  Ironbiter,  my  brother's  sword,  which 
he  flung  among  the  swart  Saracens,  and  which  Floki  took 
from  a  dying  Vascon.  I  'd  had  enough  of  blood." 

"  No  need  to  tell  us,  my  son,  how  you  turned  to  the 
arts  of  peace.  You  have  ruled  with  wisdom;  you  have 
tempered  justice  with  mercy.  Few  counts  give  heed  to  the 
welfare  of  those  they  rule.  You,  not  content  with  the  ad- 
ministration of  justice,  have  aided  the  landfolk  out  of  your 
own  treasure.  The  Lombards  whom  you  brought  in  have 
shown  the  folk  better  methods  of  tillage,  and  I  hear  that 
your  own  men  have  sought  to  teach  the  rude  shipwrights 

255 


FOR    THE    WHITE     CHRIST 

of  Bordeaux  your  Norse  art  of  shipbuilding.    Our  lord  king 
will  not  soon  forget  such  deeds." 

"  If  he  approve  them,  why,  then,  does  he  deal  so 
harshly  with  the  Saxons?"  demanded  Olvir,  with  sudden 
heat.  "No  Frank  pays  the  tithe  he  has  put  upon  the 
forest-folk.  He  has  taken  away  their  cherished  freedom, 
and  saddled  them  with  stern  laws  that  will  goad  them  to 
revolt." 

"  No,  no,  lad ;  only  to  crush  out  their  stubborn 
heathenism." 

"  A  sight  for  the  heathen  fiend-gods !  —  a  world-hero 
priest-ridden ! " 

"  Saint  Michael,  no,  Olvir!  "  cried  Gerold,  and  he  burst 
into  a  boyish  laugh.  "  You  'd  not  say  that  had  you  been 
with  us  in  Rome.  Listen !  It  is  now  some  five  years  since 
one  of  the  learned  deacons  found  a  parchment,  under  seal 
by  the  Kaiser  Constantine,  whom  men  call  the  Great,  giv- 
ing to  the  Holy  Father  the  title  to  Rome  and  all  Italy.  Yet 
our  lord  king  set  aside  the  claim,  and,  as  you  know,  caused 
the  Holy  Father  to  crown  little  Carloman  as  King  of  Italy, 
under  the  name  of  Pepin." 

"  By  Thor !  those  are  good  tidings.  I  had  not  heard 
that  part  of  the  tale,  though  I  heard  of  the  crowning  of  the 
bairns.  William  of  Toulouse  saw  to  that.  The  short-nosed 
count  wrote  to  me,  in  the  name  of  King  Louis  of  Aquitania, 
demanding  aid  in  his  war  against  the  Saracens.  I  sent  back 
word  that  the  Count  of  the  Vascon  Mark  was  not  the  man 
of  any  bairn  or  of  any  bairn's  nurse." 

"  We  heard  of  that  sending,  Olvir,  even  in  the  Saxon 
Mark,"  said  Gerold.  "William  did  not  trouble  you  the 
second  time." 

"  No ;  but  the  shrewd  Neustrian  waited  his  chance,  as 
you  know.  And  now,  by  Thor,  I'm  done  with  all  that. 
Like  my  sea-wolves,  I  've  sickened  of  this  mild  Southland. 

256 


JS 


CKB 

ttSfofeS 


$n\ 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Ho  for  the  gritting  snow  and  the  icy  breath  of  the  frost- 
giant  ! "  and  the  sea-king  thrust  over  the  Raven's  tiller  to 
steer  out  into  the  open  sea. 

The  voyage  Rhineward  was  very  boisterous  for  the 
season,  and  Abbot  Fulrad  spent  much  of  his  time  on  a  cot 
beneath  the  Raven's  quarter-deck.  But  Gerold  proved  him- 
self a  better  sailor,  and  after  the  second  day  was  able  to 
keep  his  place  with  Olvir  beside  the  tiller.  Standing  thus, 
with  the  noble  ship  beneath  him  racing  at  the  head  of  the 
fleet,  Gerold  could  not  only  comprehend,  but  could  share 
in  the  Northman's  keen  enjoyment  of  the  whistling  gale 
and  the  high-leaping  waves.  He  felt,  as  few  landsmen 
might,  the  wild  fascination  of  the  viking  life. 

But  when  Olvir  began  to  talk  of  Trondheim  Fiord  and 
the  joys  of  a  home  visit,  Gerold  quickly  sought  to  turn  his 
thoughts  back  to  the  honors  and  friendships  he  had  won  in 
Frank  Land.  The  king  was  eager  to  see  his  Dane  hawk, 
and  it  was  not  right  for  Olvir  to  delay  for  even  a  short  visit 
in  the  North.  What  might  he  not  expect  of  the  king's 
favor,  when  Worad,  who  was  not  half  so  learned,  had  been 
raised  to  the  judgment-seat  of  the  Count  Palatine?  Then 
there  was  Liutrad,  beloved  of  all  in  the  king's  hall,  and  one 
of  the  foremost  pupils  in  Alcuin's  School  of  the  Palace,  — 
ah,  yes,  Alcuin !  Surely  Olvir  would  be  eager  to  meet  the 
famed  Anglo-Saxon  scholar,  whom  the  king  had  at  last  in- 
duced to  come  to  his  court. 

To  all  this  Olvir  listened  with  a  cold  ear.  But  when, 
having  vainly  tried  to  arouse  interest  by  tales  of  Fastrada's 
unsuccessful  suitors,  and  of  her  reputed  dabblings  in  witch- 
craft with  the  Magian  leech  Kosru,  Gerold  at  last  gained 
leave  of  Fulrad  to  tell  how  the  king  had  finally  yielded  to 
the  wish  of  Hildegarde,  and  bidden  Rothada  to  leave  the 
Convent  of  Chelles,  in  which  she  had  so  long  secluded  her- 
self, he  struck  the  right  note  to  stir  his  companion.  He  had 

17  25; 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

then  only  to  add  the  rumor  that  the  king's  purpose  in  com- 
pelling the  presence  of  the  daughter  of  Himiltrude  was  to 
betroth  her  to  some  outland  king. 

Here  were  tidings  which  touched  Olvir  to  the  quick. 
From  the  moment  he  heard  them  he  was  aflame  to  reach 
the  Rhine  and  the  hall  of  Karl.  He  might  have  been 
willing  to  forgo  the  king's  favor ;  but  the  possibility 
of  Rothada  —  the  little  vala  —  being  betrothed  to  another 
roused  all  the  tender  love  and  affection  which  he  felt 
toward  the  maiden,  and  intensified  that  love  tenfold  by 
a  single  touch  of  jealousy. 

His  should  be  the  king's  daughter,  if  it  were  within  the 
power  of  man  to  win  her!  The  thought  that  the  king 
planned  to  give  her  to  another  stirred  him  to  deepest  anger, 
which,  when  it  left  his  heart,  gave  place  to  a  great  longing 
to  see  again  the  little  maiden's  violet  eyes  and  pure  young 
face. 

And  so,  while  the  Raven  drove  on  up  the  stormy 
channel,  the  sea-king  no  longer  saw  rising  before  him  the 
iron  cliffs  of  old  Norway.  In  his  thoughts  were  now  pic- 
tured the  quiet  convent  garden  of  Chelles,  and  in  that 
garden,  walking  among  the  roses  with  Gisela,  his  little 
may,  sweeter  than  ever,  and  no  longer  a  child. 


28 


CHAPTER  II 


It  is  marvel 

And  the  red  blood 


Runs  not  as  the  rain 
Runs  in  the  street. 

FINNESBURH. 


HEN  at  last  the  gale-driven  fleet 
sighted  the  dune  shores  of  the 
old  Rhine  Mouth,  and  the  ships 
steered  in  across  the  bar,  no  time 
was  lost  in  beginning  the  ascent 
of  the  river.  From  a  passing 
Frisian  trader,  the  crews  learned 
that  war  had  broken  out  anew 
in  Saxon  Land;  and  after  such 
tidings  there  was  no  need  to 
urge  the  viking  oarsmen  to  their  benches  whenever,  in 
rounding  the  wide  bends  of  the  stream,  the  breeze  chanced 
to  come  ahead.  Olvir  was  not  more  eager  than  were  they 
to  reach  Mayence,  where  both  Abbot  Fulrad  and  Gerold 
thought  they  might  now  look  to  find  Karl  and  the  court. 
When  the  missi  started  south,  the  king  was  about  to  leave 
for  Aix,  to  enjoy  the  warm  baths,  and  plan  the  building  of 
the  grand  palace  and  the  domchurch,  which  were  so  long 
to  commemorate  his  reign.  By  this  time,  however,  he 
should  have  returned  to  the  Rhinegau,  to  urge  on  the 
construction  of  the  new  palace  of  Ingleheim. 

But  as  the  fleet  lay  to  for  provisions  at  the  great 
stone  bridge  of  Constantine,  which  spanned  the  Rhine  at 
Cologne,  the  monks  of  Saint  Martin  of  the  Isle  brought  full 
account  of  the  bloody  disaster  at  Sunthal,  to  avenge  which 

259 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Karl  the  King  had  a  month  since  gathered  a  great  host 
and  swept  north  into  Saxon  Land. 

The  various  stories  of  the  battle,  though  contradictory 
on  many  points,  all  agreed  as  to  the  main  outline.  The 
Sorbs,  taking  advantage  of  the  fact  that  the  grim  Count 
Rudulf  lay  at  Fulda  helpless  from  the  goring  of  a  wild 
boar,  had  stirred  up  trouble  in  their  mark.  To  quiet  them, 
Karl  had  levied  a  host,  under  the  command  of  Count 
Worad,  the  High  Marshal  Gilo,  and  Adalgis  the  Chamber- 
lain, and  had  unwisely  added  to  the  host  a  contingent  of 
Saxons. 

In  the  midst  of  the  forest  these  Saxons  had  deserted 
and  fled  across  Eastphalia,  to  join  the  great  war-earl  Wit- 
tikind,  who  had  once  more  returned  from  Denmark  with 
fire  and  sword.  Following  the  deserters  to  the  Weser, 
the  Franks  came  upon  a  small  host  under  the  command 
of  Count  Teutoric  of  the  Frisian  Mark,  who  had  coun- 
selled that  all  should  join  in  a  united  attack  on  the  Saxon 
camp. 

But  the  jealous  counts  planned  secretly  to  make  the 
attack  without  the  famed  kinsman  of  the  king.  Thinking 
to  overwhelm  the  Saxons  by  the  impetuosity  of  their  as- 
sault, they  had  rushed  upon  the  Saxon  war-hedges  in  wild- 
est disorder ;  only  to  be  caught  by  the  crafty  Wittikind  as 
Herman,  his  great  predecessor,  had  trapped  the  Roman 
Varus.  The  greater  part  of  the  Frankish  host,  including 
Adalgis,  Gilo,  and  twenty  counts,  had  been  slaughtered, 
and  Count  Worad  had  barely  managed  to  bring  three 
hundred  warriors  out  of  the  ambush. 

After  such  tidings  there  was  no  longer  holding  the 
vikings  in  check.  The  ships  were  at  once  left  in  charge  of 
a  scanty  ship-watch,  and  with  the  swiftness  of  a  mounted 
levy  the  vikings  swept  north  from  the  Rhine  toward  the 
Saxon  Mark. 

260 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

But  near  the  Ruhr  a  rumor  reached  the  eager  band 
that  the  king  was  now  at  Fulda;  and  Olvir,  at  the 
urgent  request  of  Abbot  Fulrad,  turned  aside  toward 
the  monastery. 

The  march  to  Fulda  across  the  war-trampled  fields  of 
Hesse  was  taken  far  more  leisurely  than  the  rush  from  the 
Rhine.  The  vikings  had  little  heart  for  turning  aside,  and 
there  was  much  grumbling  among  them  at  being  cheated 
of  the  merry  sword-play.  Even  at  their  slower  pace,  how- 
ever, the  third  day  found  them  close  upon  their  journey's 
end,  where  they  were  fated  to  hear  that  which  should  cool 
the  blood-fever  of  the  grimmest  berserk  in  their  number. 

Marching  through  the  wild  beech  forest,  the  Norse 
band  came  upon  Fulda  late  in  the  day.  They  found  the 
half-cleared  groves  around  the  monastery  filled  with  the 
booths  of  the  Frankish  host,  and  everywhere,  by  scores  and 
by  hundreds,  the  leathern-jerkined  warriors  were  to  be  seen 
cooking  their  evening  meal,  or  seated  in  groups  to  eat. 

It  was  the  time  of  day  when  the  men  of  a  victorious 
host  should  have  broken  into  song  and  merriment.  But  a 
hush  lay  upon  the  Frankish  camp,  and  the  faces  of  the  less 
brutal  among  the  warriors  bore  the  gloomy  look  of  de- 
feated men. 

Uneasy  with  forebodings  of  evil,  Abbot  Fulrad  spurred 
on  to  the  monastery  to  see  the  king,  and  Gerold  rode  with 
him.  Confident  in  the  speed  of  Zora  to  overtake  them, 
Olvir  waited  to  direct  the  arrangement  of  the  viking  camp ; 
but  a  quarrel  between  two  berserks  delayed  him  longer 
than  he  had  intended.  He  had  at  last  pacified  the  angry 
men,  and  was  about  to  spring  upon  Zora,  when  Liutrad 
Erlingson  came  galloping  through  the  wood,  afire  with 
eagerness  to  greet  his  beloved  earl.  Leaping  from  the 
saddle,  he  flung  his  arms  about  Olvir  and  held  him  fast, 
too  overjoyed  to  speak. 

261 


I 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Olvir  met  the  bear-like  hug  with  a  grip  that  forced  the 
breath  from  the  broad  chest  of  his  captor,  and  then,  slip- 
ping eel-like  from  the  massive  arms,  he  stepped  back  to 
view  the  young  giant. 

Like  Gerold,  Liutrad  had  not  yet  lost  all  his  boyish- 
ness of  look  and  bearing.  His  blue  eyes  lacked  none  of 
their  old-time  frankness,  and  his  ruddy  face  still  showed  to 
the  world  the  kindly  spirit  which  dwelt  within.  Yet  across 
his  forehead  was  drawn  a  newly  creased  line,  and  there  was 
a  look  in  his  eyes  which  even  his  joy  at  the  meeting  could 
not  altogether  hide. 

"  How  now,  son  of  Erling?  "  demanded  Olvir.  "  Have 
the  Christian  priests  taken  the  heart  from  your  breast? 
You  look  as  do  these  moody  Franks.  Has  the  whole 
Christian  host  seen  a  bloody  guardian-sprite?" 

"  Ah,  Christ !  do  not  speak  of  blood !  "  cried  Liutrad, 
and  he  threw  up  his  arm  before  his  eyes. 

"  Read  me  the  riddle,  then,"  rejoined  Olvir.    "  I  wait." 

"Would  that  another  might  tell  that  tale,  ring- 
breaker!  Holy  Mother!  I  see  all  again,  —  the  bloody 
swords,  the  headless  slain  splashing  into  the  Aller!" 

"Thor!"  muttered  Olvir.  "I  had  yet  to  learn  that 
Christians  could  sicken  at  thought  of  sword-play." 

"  Sword-play !  sword-play !  "  echoed  Liutrad.  "  It  was 
no  sword-play,  earl;  it  was  slaughter." 

"  Out  with  it,  lad.    You  speak  in  riddles." 

"  Yet  it  seems  to  me,  earl,  that  the  wide  world  must 
have  thundered  with  the  tidings.  But  listen.  When  the 
king  in  his  wrath  swept  north  through  Saxon  Land,  Witti- 
kind  fled  back  again  to  Nordmannia,  and  all  the  forest- 
dwellers  stooped  beneath  the  heel  of  the  Frank.  At 
Verden,  on  the  Aller,  the  king  called  before  him  the  earls 
and  eldormen  of  the  Saxon  folk.  They  came  in  a  multitude, 
crying  out  against  Wittikind,  who  had  stirred  them  to  take 

262 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  Stay,  earl !  "  exclaimed  Liutrad.  "  The  king  will  be 
waiting  to  welcome  you." 

"  He  may  wait,"  answered  Olvir,  very  quietly,  and  he 
kept  on  until  lost  to  view  beneath  the  striped  viking  tilt 
from  which  fluttered  his  starred  banner. 

When  Liutrad,  after  greeting  Floki  and  the  crews, 
presently  ventured  to  peer  into  Olvir's  tent,  he  saw  him 
seated  beside  a  torch,  alternately  reading  marked  passages 
in  a  pair  of  use-worn  books.  One  of  the  books  was  new  to 
Liutrad,  both  in  binding  and  script;  but  the  other  he  at 
once  recognized  as  Otkar  Jotuntop's  Greek  Gospels.  At 
his  cry  of  surprise,  Olvir  bade  him  enter  and  be  seated, 
and  then  resumed  his  reading;  but  now  he  read  aloud. 


263 


up  the  sword,  and  submitted  themselves  humbly  to  the  will 
of  the  king.  Some  were  thrust  forward  by  their  fellows, 
and  many  more  stood  out  of  themselves  to  meet,  as  leaders 
of  the  revolt,  the  expected  doom.  But  the  king  was  in  no 
mood  to  content  himself  with  so  small  a  vengeance.  The 
blood-mist  was  before  his  eyes,  —  he  was  maddened  by  the 
harrying  of  the  forest-wolves.  Of  all  the  high-born  Saxons, 
—  four  thousand  and  more  earls  and  eldormen,  —  not  one 
was  spared.  In  a  single  day  the  heads  of  all  were  hewn  off 
and  their  bodies  cast  into  the  Aller.  The  stream  flowed 
red  into  the  Weser,  —  God  grant  I  soon  forget  that  sight!" 

Again  Liutrad  flung  up  his  arm  before  his  eyes,  and 
stood  shuddering.  Olvir  waited,  silent  and  seemingly 
calm;  but  the  lines  about  his  mouth  drew  tense,  and  his 
dark  eyes  gazed  past  Liutrad  into  vacancy. 

When  the  son  of  Erling  dropped  his  arm,  Olvir  turned 
on  his  heel,  without  a  word,  and  started  to  lead  Zora  back 
to  his  tent. 


CHAPTER  III 


Too  baleful  vengeance 
Wroughtest  thou. 

WHETTING  OF  GUDRUN. 

NLY  did  Karl  the  King  look 
that  night  for  the  coming  of  his 
Dane  hawk.  Neither  Olvir  nor 
Liutrad  stirred  from  the  viking 
camp.  Nor  did  they  go  out  in 
the  morning  until  the  king  sent 
Gerold  to  call  Olvir  before  him. 
Though  the  bidding  was 
worded  in  terms  of  heartiest 
praise,  and  though  Gerold  spoke 
it  with  the  delight  of  one  who  sees  a  beloved  friend  about 
to  attain  the  highest  honors,  Floki  alone  heard  the  message 
with  pleasure.  Liutrad  turned  quickly  to  his  earl,  with  a 
troubled  look,  as  though  he  dreaded  some  rash  outburst. 
But  his  dread  was  baseless.  Olvir  showed  neither  delight 
nor  anger.  As  quietly  as  he  had  led  Zora  back  to  the  tent 
the  evening  before,  he  now  called  for  the  mare,  and  rode 
off  to  do  the  king's  bidding. 

Very  shortly  the  three  riders  came  to  the  monastery 
gates  and  entered  the  great  courtyard.  At  the  door  of  the 
hospice  they  leaped  off,  and,  without  pausing  to  exchange 
greeting  with  the  counts  who  stood  about  the  yard,  turned 
at  once  to  enter.  As  they  passed  through  the  doorway, 
Olvir  stepped  before  his  companions  and  gazed  up  the  long 
guest-hall.  Beyond  the  square  of  white  light  which  poured 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


down  through  the  roof-hole,  he  perceived  a  group  of  men 
in  the  semi-gloom  at  the  far  end  of  the  room.  The  king 
stood  with  his  back  to  the  entrance ;  but  Olvir  knew  him 
at  once  by  his  powerful  figure  and  the  stateliness  of  his 
bearing. 

Then,  in  turn,  he  made  out  Abbot  Fulrad  and  Count 
Hardrat,  old  Rudulf  of  the  Sorb  Mark,  and  Baugulf,  who 
had  been  chosen  abbot  in  the  year  780,  when  the  venerable 
Sturm  departed  this  life.  There  was  one  other  present,  — 
a  stooped,  thin-faced  priest,  unknown  to  Olvir. 

The  three  young  warriors  had  hardly  crossed  the 
threshold  when  Rudulf's  slit  eyes  caught  sight  of  them. 
At  his  guttural  exclamation,  Karl  faced  about  and  peered 
down  the  hall.  In  a  moment  he  had  recognized  Olvir  by 
the  brightness  of  his  mail,  and  was  advancing  with  swift 
strides  to  meet  him.  The  counts  and  priests  followed, 
Rudulf  supported  between  the  two  abbots. 

Olvir  and  the  king  met  in  the  full  light  beneath  the 
roof-hole.  The  Northman's  face  was  pale  and  stern,  and  as 
he  halted,  he  raised  his  hand  in  formal  salute.  But  Karl 
gave  no  heed  to  this  coldness.  His  great  hands  clasped 
Olvir  by  the  shoulders,  and  he  stood  beaming  down  into 
the  young  man's  hard-set  face. 

"  Greeting !  greeting  to  my  just  steward,  —  to  my 
bright  Dane !  "  he  cried.  "  We  grieve  that  you  no  longer 
rule  over  the  folk  of  Vascon  Land ;  but  greater  is  our  joy 
to  welcome  you  in  our  presence." 

Olvir  quivered  beneath  the  royal  praise  as  though  he 
had  been  struck,  and  his  face  flushed  hotly.  But,  curbing 
his  anger,  he  gazed  direct  into  the  king's  eyes  and  an- 
swered with  cold  deliberation :  "  For  whatever  I  have  done, 
lord  king,  I  have  been  repaid  in  full.  Once  the  praise  of 
the  King  of  the  Franks  would  have  tasted  sweet  in  my 
mouth;  now  gall  is  not  more  bitter." 

265 


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FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

A  cry  of  amazement  burst  from  the  lips  of  the  priests 
and  counts,  and  Karl  himself  stepped  back,  frowning  and 
bewildered. 

"  How  now,  Olvir?  "  he  demanded.  "  What  riddle  is 
this?" 

"  A  simple  one,  lord  king.  I  Ve  had  my  fill  of  Chris- 
tian ways.  I  would  be  faring  over  the  whale-road,  to  a 
land  where  even  the  mad  berserk  slaughters  only  in  the 
heat  of  battle." 

"Heal  heul  down  with  the  traitor!"  shouted  Rudulf 
and  Hardrat  in  a  breath,  and  the  red-faced  count  tore 
his  sword  from  its  sheath.  But  Karl,  with  a  sweeping 
side-stroke,  like  the  blow  of  a  lion's  paw,  met  Hard- 
rat's  forward  spring,  and  flung  him  sprawling  upon  the 
rushes. 

For  a  little,  while  the  others  stood  staring,  some 
flushed  and  indignant,  others  pale  with  anxiety  for  their 
outland  friend,  Karl  gazed  down  upon  the  Northman,  his 
broad  chest  slowly  heaving  beneath  his  folded  arms.  Pres- 
ently the  look  of  half-angry  wonderment  which  had  seamed 
his  face  with  deep  lines  gave  place  to  a  calm  like  that  of 
his  daring  reproacher.  He  extended  his  hand,  and  replied 
to  Olvir,  not  as  the  over-lord  of  half  Europe  to  his  retainer, 
but  as  man  to  man. 

"  Friend,"  he  said  with  simple  dignity,  "  you  charge 
me  with  cold  slaughter.  God  judge  if  I  was  cold!  Had 
I  not  looked  upon  a  harried  land,  —  upon  desecrated 
churches,  upon  priests  and  monks  of  God,  helpless  women 
and  babes  tortured  with  fiendish  cruelty?  Cold!  My  re- 
proach is  that  I  doomed  the  murderous  traitors  while 
wrath  inflamed  my  soul.  However  stern  the  judgment, 
the  judge  should  not  speak  in  anger.  That  alone  I  regret." 

"  Whether  the  sword  fell  in  anger  or  in  coldness,  what 
Christian  can  justify  such  a  slaying?  "  rejoined  Olvir. 

266 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Upon  my  head  be  it !  "  answered  Karl,  firmly.  "  If 
I  have  done  wrong,  mine  is  the  retribution.  But  by  the 
King  of  Heaven,  I  swear,  I  stand  here  with  a  clear  con- 
science. Listen,  Olvir.  Your  wits  are  keen  as  your  sword ; 
you  have  eyes.  You  shall  look  into  my  heart  and  see  what 
I  have  set  before  me  as  the  aim  of  my  lifework.  If  when 
you  have  looked,  you  would  still  be  faring,  I  shall  not  urge 
you  to  stay." 

"  Beware,  lord  king,"  growled  Rudulf.  "  Would  you 
tell  the  riddles  of  your  kingcraft  into  the  ears  of  this 
heathen  Dane?" 

"Silence,  old  wolf!"  commanded  Karl.  "Who  has 
better  proved  his  trustiness  than  the  Count  of  Vascon 
Land?  But  your  warning  comes  in  good  season.  I  speak 
with  Count  Olvir  alone." 

Hushed  by  the  rebuke,  all  silently  withdrew  with  the 
Grey  Wolf  to  where  Hardrat  stood  brooding  over  his 
humiliation.  When  they  were  beyond  ear-shot,  Karl  turned 
to  the  Northman,  his  face  aglow  with  inward  light. 

"  Again,  Olvir,  I  call  you  friend,"  he  began.  "  It  is  a 
precious  word  in  the  heart  of  a  king;  for  it  is  seldom  he 
can  so  name  any  man.  I  bear  in  mind  how  even  at  the 
first,  at  Casseneuil,  you  uttered  words  that  were  bitter, 
yet  wholesome.  I  were  a  witling  if  I  failed  to  value  at 
the  full  one  who  has  proved  himself  a  just  ruler,  —  one  who 
dares  speak  his  heart's  thought  in  the  face  of  a  king,  reck- 
ing nothing  of  the  king's  disfavor.  In  all  my  realm  I  can 
name  only  two  such  men,  —  yonder  deacon,  whom  men  call 
Alcuin  the  Scholar,  and  yourself." 

"He  — Alcuin  of  York?  " 

"The  Northumbrian.  Why  have  I  drawn  the  pale 
student  from  his  island  home,  and  made  him  gift  of  abbeys 
and  lands?  Be  sure  it  is  not  alone  that  he  is  learned  and 
the  priests  of  my  realm  are  unlearned,  —  not  alone  that 

267 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

he  shall  be  a  light  to  illumine  the  night  of  our  ignorance. 
Rather  is  it  that  he,  like  yourself,  Olvir,  is  a  man  who  puts 
truth  first  and  the  king  second.  Therefore  I  have  hon- 
ored him,  and  therefore  I  shall  honor  you.  I  shall  do  for 
you  that  which  tears  my  very  heart-strings.  The  day 
when  you  bow  to  our  Lord  Christ  in  baptism,  that  day  I 
will  betroth  to  you  Rothada,  my  daughter." 

Abruptly  Karl  paused  and  looked  at  the  Northman. 
Olvir  stood  staring,  half-dazed.  He  had  steeled  himself  to 
meet  reproach,  anger,  even  flattery;  but  this  mode  of  at- 
tack was  unforeseen.  All  too  clearly  he  realized  the  full 
meaning  of  the  king's  words ;  he  had  only  to  comply,  and 
honors,  power,  riches,  love,  the  little  vala,  —  all  were  his. 
A  deep  flush  reddened  his  dark  face ;  his  eyes  sank  before 
the  king's  kindly  smile,  and  for  a  while  he  stood  speech- 
less. But  then  the  flush  faded  from  his  cheeks,  and  he 
looked  up,  calm  as  before,  and  his  eyes  glowing  with  a 
strange  light. 

"  My  lord  king  has  honored  me  with  his  praise,"  he 
said.  "  Yet  he  bids  me  stay,  not  because  he  has  justified 
the  bloody  deed  of  Verden,  but  because  by  staying  I  may 
win  a  bride.  It  is  a  tempting  offer.  Were  the  maiden 
here  before  me,  I  doubt  if  I  should  have  strength  to  with- 
stand it;  and  then  your  Majesty  would  be  certain  loser. 
Should  I  sell  my  truth,  even  at  such  a  price,  the  king's 
truthful  friend  would  be  farther  away  than  Trondheim 
Fiord." 

Karl  studied  the  speaker  with  a  steady  gaze,  and  at 
the  end  smiled  in  keenest  satisfaction. 

"  I  have  not  wittingly  tempted  you,  Olvir,"  he  replied. 
"It  was  in  no  sense  as  a  bargain  that  I  spoke  of  Rothada. 
Yet  I  rejoice  at  this  added  proof  of  your  worth.  Listen 
now  to  the  aim  of  my  statecraft.  If  I  do  not  justify  my 
ways  in  your  sight,  I  bid  you  God-speed." 

268 


ESXB3L 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Do  not  believe,  sire,  that  I  long  to  go.  I  can  value 
at  its  true  worth  the  friendship  of  one  whom  I  know  to  be 
a  world-hero,  and  —  and  I  have  not  forgotten  my  little 
may." 

"  Friendship  and  maiden,  —  both  shall  be  yours,  Olvir, 
if  my  tongue  can  make  clear  what  is  in  my  heart.  You 
charge  me  with  slaughter.  The  King  of  Heaven  is  my  wit- 
ness whether  I  wage  war  for  blood.  If  I  seek  dominion,  I 
seek  it  for  the  good  of  men  and  the  fulfilment  of  God's 
will.  Were  you  not  a  heathen,  I  would  bid  you  read  that 
grand  writing,  —  Augustine's  *  City  of  God.'  " 

"  As  to  Christian  writings,  sire,  I  am  content  with  the 
words  of  the  White  Christ,"  replied  Olvir. 

Karl  gazed  fixedly  at  the  Northman,  his  brows  gath- 
ered in  deep  thought. 

"  I  wish  that  you  had  read  Augustine's  '  City,' "  he 
repeated.  "  It  would  make  plain  to  you  the  course  of  my 
statecraft.  But  it  seems  that  I  must  light  the  way  myself. 
First,  I  would  have  you  look  at  the  world  through  my  eyes. 
If  yours  then  see  a  difference,  I  ask  you  to  tell  me.  Now 
let  us  gaze  out  upon  the  wide  world,  Olvir.  What  do  we 
see  in  the  East?  —  that  vast  giant  of  the  past,  the  Em- 
pire of  the  East  Romans,  within  a  hundred  years  shorn 
of  Egypt  and  Africa,  of  Armenia  and  Syria,  by  the  fiery 
Saracens,  before  whose  attacks  the  Christian  Marks  still 
crumble  and  wane.  Look  to  the  South,  —  that  same  pagan 
horde,  winners  and  still  fast  holders  of  nine  parts  of  the 
Christian  Goth  realm.  Look  to  the  Northeast,  —  hordes 
of  savage  Wends  and  Avars,  waiting  only  a  new  Attila  to 
sweep  Europe  with  a  second  Hunnic  harrying.  Does  my 
Dane  hawk  see?" 

"  I  see,  lord  king." 

"Then  look  beyond  Rhine  Stream,  into  the  forests 
whence  came  Burgundians  and  Lombards,  Allemanni  and 

269 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Bavarians,  and  my  own  folk,  the  tribes  of  the  Franks.  I 
have  heard  told  the  great  story  of  the  past,  —  how,  one  and 
then  another,  the  wild  hordes  of  the  North  came  swarming 
from  their  forests,  to  crush  and  trample  the  Western  Em- 
pire. They  slew  the  priests  of  Holy  Church,  and  trampled 
under  foot  all  learning  and  goodness  and  art,  until  God,  in 
His  grace,  bent  Clovis  the  Merwing  to  His  will." 

"  A  word,  lord  king.  I,  too,  have  heard  how  the  free 
forest-folk  broke  the  sway  of  the  subtle  Romans.  Who 
looks  for  praise  on  the  lips  of  his  foe?  Bear  in  mind,  sire, 
those  who  wrote  the  tale.  Were  not  the  scribes  Romans? 
And  what  destruction  of  good  could  there  be,  when  their 
own  scribes  who  went  before  told  how  the  realm  was 
tainted  throughout  with  utter  foulness?  The  heathen  war- 
riors of  the  forest  at  least  honored  women  and  truth,  and 
were  free  men.  If,  through  contact  with  the  Christian 
Romans,  they  forgot  those  traits  — " 

"  Stay  a  little,  lad.  Is  the  Frank  more  false,  more 
impure  than  the  Saxon?  " 

"  If  Otkar  spoke  truth,  lord  king,  the  Saxons  are  purer 
than  the  Franks,  and  they  are  free;  while  in  Frank  Land 
I  see  a  race  of  free  men  fast  sinking  into  thraldom.  As 
to  the  falseness  of  the  Saxon,  has  not  the  forest-dweller 
learned  the  use  of  lies  from  across  Rhine  Stream?  " 

"  My  faith,  you  strike  hard !  But  whether  or  no  I 
give  assent  to  that,  it  matters  little.  At  the  least,  the 
heathen  hosts  of  old-time  shattered  the  peace  and  order  of 
Rome.  Where  was  peace,  came  war;  where  was  safety, 
came  peril.  Order  was  swept  away,  and  confusion  reigned ; 
and  still  it  reigns  throughout  the  Western  World.  But  — 
listen,  Olvir  —  I  have  set  for  myself  the  task  of  bringing 
again  the  old-time  peace  and  order.  Within  my  kingdom 
and  upon  my  borders,  where  men  are  now  given  over  to 
brute  lust  and  murder,  they  shall  learn  to  bend  to  just  laws. 

270 


i 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Count  and  bishop,  abbot  and  judge,  free  man  and  slave,  — 
all  hearts  shall  enshrine  the  image  of  our  Lord  Christ ! " 

Flushed  with  self-aroused  ardor,  Karl  looked  inquir- 
ingly at  his  stern-faced  listener. 

Olvir  was  staring  straight  before  him,  intent  on  the 
words  of  the  royal  speaker.  It  was  evident  that  his  doubts 
were  not  yet  satisfied,  and  so,  after  a  moment's  pause,  Karl 
spoke  on:  "  What  more  need  I  say,  Olvir?  You  have  seen 
how  the  heathen  hedge  in  my  kingdom  on  three  sides,  — 
how  within  my  borders  the  mass  of  my  own  folk  drag  upon 
my  skirts  with  the  weight  of  their  ignorance  and  sinful 
living.  Even  I  must  at  times  bend  and  smile,  —  must 
swallow  the  gibe,  and  stoop  to  some  landed  lordling  whose 
benefice  was  bestowed  upon  his  father  by  my  father,  yet 
which  he  now  makes  pretence  of  holding  by  the  new  and 
unlawful  claim  of  heritage.  Does  the  son  of  Thorbiorn 
believe  that  I  am  one  to  eat  with  pleasure  a  dish  so  sea- 
soned? Yet  I  smile  and  bide  my  time.  My  thought  is 
other  than  of  kingly  dignity.  Before  all  else  I  have  set  my 
task  to  bring  about  peace  and  order  and  enlightenment; 
and  there,  by  God's  grace,  shall  it  stand,  until  my  realm 
has  passed  out  of  the  night  of  ignorance  into  the  full  day 
of  bright  learning,  —  until  justice  reigns  throughout  my 
kingdom,  as  for  these  four  years  past  it  has  reigned  in 
Vascon  Land." 

"By  Thor!"  cried  Olvir,  "now  do  I  see!  You,  sire, 
are  even  such  a  king  as  was  sought  by  Socrates  the  Greek, 
—  a  golden  king,  a  king  who  loves  wisdom." 

"  I  have  heard  of  that  Greek.  You  shall  tell  me  of  his 
words  another  time.  Now  I  seek  to  justify  my  deeds. 
Already  you  give  praise,  yet  I  will  speak  further.  Weigh 
well  what  I  have  said,  —  the  task  I  would  work  out ;  the 
dangers  I  must  withstand.  I  have  not  named  all  which 
threaten  my  realm.  There  is  yet  another  looming  in  the 

271 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


future,  —  one  which  I  should  have  no  need  to  name  to  you. 
Beyond  the  forests  and  fens  of  Saxon  Land  I  see  rising  a 
cloud  black  with  menace  to  Christendom.  Am  I  blind,  my 
Dane  hawk?  Have  I  not  watched  with  a  heedful  eye  the 
bearing  of  your  sea- wolves?  Have  I  not  measured  in  battle 
the  shock  of  those  fierce  warriors  who  follow  Wittikind 
from  Sigfrid's  realm?  Your  folk  are  at  home  both  on  land 
and  sea.  Where  your  own  ships  have  come,  others  will 
follow,  and  there  will  not  always  be  king's  daughters  to 
turn  their  crews  from  harrying.  I  foresee  a  great  peril  in 
the  North.  My  sons  will  have  enough  to  defend  the  long 
coast  lines  of  Neustria  and  Frisia,  without  the  open  door 
of  a  heathen  Saxon  land  for  your  wild  Dane  folk  to  enter. 
Therefore  I  press  upon  the  rebellious  Saxons  with  my  whole 
power,  that  I  may  crush  out  the  last  spark  of  their  savagery 
and  heathenism.  I  have  been  mild,  —  I  have  sought  to  win 
them  by  kindness.  But  they  have  rebelled  many  times, 
and,  not  content  with  bowing  to  their  fiend-gods,  they  have 
harried  my  borders  with  fire  and  sword.  Must  I  then 
forgo  vengeance  because  the  oath-breakers  come  before 
me  to  seek  pardon,  their  hands  yet  red  with  the  blood  of 
priests  and  babes?  No,  by  the  King  of  Heaven!  I  have 
wreaked  fitting  vengeance  upon  the  murderers.  Once  for 
all  time  I  have  crushed  the  forest-wolves.  Now,  what  says 
my  bright  Dane?  " 

Olvir  stood  silent  for  a  while,  tapping  the  jewelled 
hilt  of  Al-hatif .  Then  he  answered  deliberately :  "  I  have 
weighed  well  your  words,  sire,  and  now  wish  to  remain 
your  liegeman.  Already  I  knew  you  a  world-hero;  you 
have  proved  yourself  yet  more,  —  a  king  who  seeks  first 
the  welfare  of  his  people.  Yet  do  not  mistake  me,  lord 
king.  Though,  in  the  eyes  of  men,  your  task  and  the  ruth- 
less harrying  by  your  foe  may  justify  that  bloody  deed,  I 
still  hold  that  nowhere  can  you  find  justification  in  the 


272 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

words  of  the  White  Christ.  Yet  more,  I  hold  that  by  this 
deed  you  have  also  failed  in  kingcraft." 

"  How  then?  "  demanded  Karl.  "  If  it  cow  the  forest- 
wolves,  there  will  be  more  saved  in  blood  and  woe  —  " 

"  But  will  it  daunt  those  sons  of  Odin? "  broke  in 
Olvir.  "  The  Saxon  is  no  soft  Aquitanian  or  Romanized 
Lombard.  Does  the  she-wolf  run  when  her  young  are 
struck?  Rather,  she  turns  and  rends  the  hunter.  So  shall 
the  forest-dwellers  rush  to  attack  you." 

"  God  forbid !  If  such  be  the  fruit  of  Verden,  I  will 
freely  own  myself  at  fault.  But  such  shall  not  be.  The 
stiff-necked  heathen  are  broken.  And  now,  enough  of  that 
which  is  past.  I  again  hold  you  to  be  what  you  have 
proved  yourself  these  four  years  gone,  —  a  friend  and  a 
helper  in  my  lifework." 

"  I  cannot  pledge  my  followers,  lord  king.  They  are 
free  vikings,  not  henchmen.  They  may  go,  or  they  may 
stay.  But  I  can  pledge  myself.  In  the  days  to  come,  it  will 
be  fair  cause  for  boasting  that  one  has  had  a  hand  with 
Karl  the  King  in  the  uplifting  of  men." 

"  True,  lad ;  and  I  welcome  your  learning  and  keen  wit 
even  as  I  welcome  the  wisdom  of  yonder  scholar.  Ho, 
Brother  Alcuin,  come  forward  with  your  fellows!  Come, 
greet  my  bright  Dane !  " 

At  the  bidding,  the  thin-faced  deacon  advanced  before 
the  counts  and  abbots  and  saluted  Olvir  gravely. 

"  In  the  name  of  our  Lord  Christ,"  he  said,  "  I  greet 
joyfully  the  high  earl  who  in  deed,  if  not  in  word,  has  ruled 
his  earldom  as  a  true  Christian." 

"  Yet  I  am  no  Christian,"  answered  Olvir.  "  The  say- 
ings of  the  White  Christ  are  hard  to  live.  I  follow  such  as 
lie  within  my  strength.  In  time  I  may  gain  strength  to 
follow  more ;  but  he  who  has  been  reared  to  manhood  with 
a  bared  sword  in  his  hand  is  slow  to  forget  the  joy  of  battle. 

18  273 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

At  the  least,  I  shall  never  fetter  the  wit  which  God  has 
given  me,  nor  stoop  from  my  freedom  to  the  yoke  of  your 
church.  If  you  Christian  priests  can  read  the  words  of  the 
White  Christ,  so  can  I.  But  I  would  not  contend.  You 
have  come  with  the  lamp  of  learning  to  lighten  the  gloom 
of  our  lord  king's  broad  realm.  I  rejoice  with  him  at  your 
coming,  and  whatever  of  power  lies  within  me,  I  give  it 
freely  and  gladly  in  aid  of  the  good  work." 

"  Young  man,"  interposed  Abbot  Baugulf,  "  before 
you  offer  your  aid,  you  should  first  seek  to  know  whether 
such  would  be  acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God.  Has  He 
need  of  heretics  to  do  His  holy  work?  We  hope  the  charge 
may  prove  untrue;  but  I  grieve  to  say  that  many  times 
word  has  come  from  the  Southland  of  how  you  made  a 
scoff  of  Holy  Church,  and  of  the  first  bishop  of  Christ's 
fold,  His  Holiness  the  Pope ;  how,  with  sacrilegious  force, 
you  went  so  far  as  to  drag  from  holy  sanctuary  —  from  the 
very  altar  of  God's  temple  —  one  who  had  thrown  himself 
upon  the  mercy  of  our  Heavenly  Father." 

"  That  is  a  lie,  lord  abbot,"  answered  Olvir,  coolly. 
"  I  and  my  men  sat  down  around  the  church,  and  after 
a  time  the  slayer  crept  out  to  meet  his  doom.  If  one  may 
not  enter  a  wrongdoer's  house  to  force  out  the  guilty 
owner,  much  less  should  one  force  the  nithing  from  God's 
house.  I  did  not  break  sanctuary;  you  have  given  ear  to 
a  lie." 

"  Lie  or  not,  it  would  be  fitting  for  you  first  to  bow  to 
the  vicar  of  our  Lord  Christ  before  you  thrust  yourself 
into  Christ's  service." 

"  Brother,"  interposed  Fulrad,  "  what  do  we  eat,  —  the 
kernel  or  the  husk?  The  learned  Alcuin  has  spoken  of 
Count  Olvir's  righteous  deeds  in  Vascon  Land ;  you  speak 
of  the  false  tales  sent  out  by  those  who  sought  to  withstand 
the  justice  of  their  lawful  ruler.  Count  Gerold  and  myself 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

have  searched  closely  into  the  affairs  of  the  Vascon  Mark. 
I  need  only  mention  the  year  of  famine,  when  Count  Olvir 
sold  a  fourth  of  the  gems  of  his  Saracen  treasure,  and  gave 
the  price  in  alms  to  the  poor  of  his  mark.  He  may  be  un- 
orthodox in  name,  but  his  deeds  were  surely  Christian." 

"  If  Father  Fulrad  speaks  for  peace,  I  will  also  seek  to 
curb  my  tongue,"  said  Olvir. 

"  And  none  shall  goad  you,  my  son.  We  will  stand 
together  in  good  acts,  and  avoid  the  strife  of  tongues." 

"  My  bright  Dane  is  free  to  speak  at  all  times,"  inter- 
posed Karl,  quickly.  "  None  the  less,  the  thought  is  good. 
Our  searchings  for  truth  shall  be  without  bitterness.  The 
land  is  now  at  peace,  and  we  go  to  Thionville,  to  set  about 
the  great  task  of  order  and  learning." 

"  God  speed  the  good  work ! "  cried  Abbot  Baugulf, 
and  all  around  echoed  the  prayer. 


275 


CHAPTER  IV 


Green  go  the  ways 
Toward  the  hall  of  Guiki, 
That  the  fates  show  forth 


To  those  who  fare  thither; 
There  the  rich  king 
Reareth  a  daughter. 

LAY  OF  REGIN. 


HE  most  subtle  courtiership 
could  not  have  gained  for  Olvir 
half  the  honors  which  his  bold 
stand  for  truth  had  won  for 
him  by  confirming  the  esteem 
and  friendship  of  the  king.  But 
Karl,  like  all  great  leaders, 
looked  for  unstinted  service  in 
turn  for  unstinted  honors.  And 

feo  it  was  that  even  before  the 

Prankish  host  moved  Rhineward,  he  singled  out  the  young 
Northman  to  go  with  Gerold  and  Abbot  Fulrad  as  special 
missi  to  Italy. 

To  Rome  and  back  was  no  short  journey.  After  a 
tedious  delay  over  the  affairs  of  Pope  Hadrian,  there  were 
months  to  be  spent  aiding  old  Barnard  in  settling  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  new  Kingdom  of  Italy.  So  that  summer 
and  autumn  had  passed,  and  the  December  snows  lay  white 
on  the  banks  of  the  Moselle,  when  at  last  the  three  came 
back  from  the  Southland. 

They  had  lain  over-night  at  Metz,  and  as  the  roads 
were  fair,  the  sixteen  miles  which  made  up  the  last  stage  of 
their  long  journey  was  covered  with  ease  during  the  fore- 
noon. A  little  short  of  Thionville,  they  stopped  at  an  inn 

276 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

for  the  noon  meal.  Then,  after  Olvir  had  groomed  Zora, 
and  all  three  had  looked  to  their  dress,  they  rode  on  quietly 
toward  the  villa. 

The  first  to  greet  the  wayfarers  were  a  party  of  vikings 
who  had  been  hunting  up  the  Moselle.  At  their  head 
stalked  Floki  the  Crane,  and  beside  him  rode  Pepin  Hunch- 
back and  young  Karl,  to  whom  the  tall  giant  had  been 
teaching  woodcraft. 

It  was  a  question  who  were  most  delighted  over 
the  unexpected  meeting,  —  the  king's  sons  or  their  Norse 
guard.  All  crowded  around  the  missi,  with  shouts  of  wel- 
come, so  that  it  was  some  little  time  before  the  party  could 
move  on.  Then  Gerold  and  Abbot  Fulrad  rode  ahead  with 
the  king's  sons,  and  Olvir  followed  in  the  midst  of  his  over- 
joyed warriors.  The  young  earl's  own  face  was  aglow; 
but,  true  leader  as  he  was,  he  lost  no  time  in  learning  the 
condition  of  his  men.  He  had  no  need  to  ask  twice.  At 
the  first  question,  Floki  pointed  down  the  Moselle  bank  to 
the  ship-sheds  and  the  high-peaked  Norse  hall  in  the  midst 
of  the  viking  huts. 

"  All 's  well  with  your  sea-wolves,  ring-breaker,"  he 
croaked.  "  We  have  thatched  enough  roofs  to  shelter  every 
head,  and  the  Frank  king  gives  with  an  open  hand." 

"  Good !  Now  I  will  ride  on  with  my  fellow  heralds, 
to  speak  our  tidings  to  the  king.  But  I  will  be  with  you 
by  nightfall,  old  Crane,"  replied  Olvir;  and,  at  a  word, 
Zora  leaped  forward  to  the  side  of  Abbot  Fulrad's  ambling 
mule. 

There  were  none  but  house-slaves  at  the  villa  gate  to 
greet  the  missi.  The  greater  number  of  the  courtiers  were 
sleeping  after  the  noon  meal.  Gerold  would  have  called 
the  doorward;  but  Pepin  and  young  Karl  ran  ahead  to 
their  father's  chamber,  and  themselves  announced  the  way- 
farers. As  the  three  paused  at  the  curtained  doorway,  the 

277 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

king's  voice,  clear  and  resonant  with  pleasure,  called  upon 
them  to  enter. 

Fulrad  at  once  thrust  aside  the  curtains  and  stepped 
within  the  chamber,  followed  closely  by  his  journey  mates. 
Karl,  who  had  been  lying  upon  a  fur-heaped  couch,  was 
already  on  his  feet,  gathering  his  long  cloak  about  his  half- 
clad  shoulders.  As  Fulrad  and  Gerold  advanced  to  kiss  his 
extended  hand,  Liutrad,  who  had  been  alone  with  him  in 
the  room,  reading  from  Augustine,  flung  down  the  book, 
and  ran  to  meet  Olvir. 

"  Welcome,  ring-breaker !  "  he  cried ;  "  thrice  welcome, 
in  the  name  of  our  Lord  Christ !  " 

"  Greeting,  lad,  in  the  name  of  Truth  and  Life,"  re- 
joined Olvir,  and,  gripping  the  young  giant  in  his  arms,  he 
lifted  him  clean  off  his  feet,  in  the  sheer  joy  of  friendship. 
As  they  parted,  an  eager  question  as  to  Rothada  sprang  to 
his  lips ;  but  the  answer  was  interrupted  by  the  king's  im- 
perious call :  "  You,  too,  my  bright  Dane !  I  would  look 
again  into  tho.se  eyes  of  starlit  darkness." 

"  It  would  seem  that  your  Majesty  has  been  studying 
skald-craft,"  replied  Olvir,  and  he  sprang  forward,  his 
black  eyes  sparkling. 

Karl's  powerful  hands  closed  upon  his  shoulders,  and 
the  clear  grey  eyes  gazed  down  into  his  face,  aglow  with 
friendliness. 

"  Welcome,  Olvir,  in  the  words  of  Liutrad,"  he  said. 
"  Christ  is  Truth  and  Life,  and  you  have  both  in  good 
share.  What  says  Father  Fulrad?" 

"  His  deeds,  sire,  abound  in  the  spirit  of  Christ.  If 
only  he  would  bend  his  stiff  knee  to  Christ's  vicar ! "  mur- 
mured Fulrad,  regretfully.  "  Even  the  very  presence  of 
the  Holy  Father  failed  to  move  him  to  reverence." 

A  slight  cloud  shadowed  the  king's  face;  but  soon  a 
smile  again  brightened  it,  and  he  answered  confidently: 

278 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  Give  him  time,  —  give  the  lad  time,  father.  He  has  found 
the  true  kernel;  the  rest  will  follow.  I  look  for  yourself 
and  Alcuin  to  win  him  over  before  the  springtime.  And 
now  to  the  matters  of  your  mission.  The  school  hour  is 
drawing  near.  Go,  my  sons;  hold  watch  in  the  hall  to 
warn  us,  lest  we  keep  the  learned  deacon  waiting." 

"  First,  a  word  to  the  bairns,  lord  king,"  interposed 
Olvir,  and  he  sprang  to  catch  young  Karl  as  the  active  boy 
was  darting  past,  in  lead  of  his  crook-backed  brother. 

"  Say  out,"  answered  the  king,  smiling  in  response  to 
the  gleeful  shout  of  the  boy  as  Olvir  swung  him  arm's 
length  overhead.  Olvir  lowered  the  boy,  to  place  one  hand 
on  his  tawny  head.  The  other  he  rested  on  Pepin's  glossy 
locks,  so  like  the  chestnut  tresses  of  his  sister. 

"  Listen,  lads,"  he  said.  "  Yule-tide  draws  near,  and 
my  vikings  will  be  having  games.  It  is  fitting  that  the 
king's  sons  should  prove  themselves  skilled  in  weapon- 
play.  Come  to  me  in  the  morning,  that  I  may  see  how 
well  the  grey  Crane  has  trained  you  in  our  Norse  games," 

"We  have  not  lacked  willingness  to  learn,  Lord 
Olvir,"  replied  Pepin,  and  his  pale  face  flushed  with  pleas- 
ure as  he  caught  the  approving  smile  of  his  hero-count. 

"  Not  we,  by  Thor ! "  cried  young  Karl,  and  he 
thumped  his  sturdy  little  chest  with  a  red-knuckled  fist. 
"  I  shot  a  roebuck,  and  Pepin  a  stag  of  ten  tynes ;  and  we 
—  we  trailed  a  boar." 

"  Which,  I  am  minded,  would  have  ended  in  two  king's 
sons  the  less,  little  boaster,  had  not  Floki  and  I  trailed  you 
in  turn,"  broke  in  Liutrad. 

"  But  we  'd  already  struck  the  quarry,  Lord  Olvir ! 
My  spear  —  " 

"  Go ;  go,  lads,"  interposed  the  king,  with  kindly  im- 
patience. "  Another  time  you  can  tell  of  your  deadly  fray. 
Now  we  have  matters  of  state  before  us." 

279 


M 
, 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


Pepin  immediately  ran  from  the  chamber;  but  young 
Karl  lingered  for  a  moment  to  whisper  in  Olvir's  ear: 
"  Wait  for  me  to  tell  of  the  boar.  I  want  to  tell." 

"  There  goes  a  king's  son,"  observed  Olvir,  as  the  boy 
darted  away. 

Karl  nodded:  "You  say  well,  Olvir.  He  is  my  main 
hope;  he  shall  be  first  among  his  brothers.  My  people 
would  not  stomach  the  luckless  son  of  Himiltrude.  Though 
the  eldest,  Pepin  is  not  fitted  in  mind  to  stand  before  the 
others.  Yet  he  shall  have  his  fair  portion.  I  trust  to  you 
four,  above  all  others,  to  see  that  the  son  through  whom 
Heaven  has  afflicted  me  for  my  sins  shall  not  suffer  loss  in 
the  allotting  of  my  realm." 

"  We  give  heedful  ear  to  your  Majesty's  wish,"  replied 
Fulrad.  "  And  now  let  me  deliver  the  last  letter  of  His 
Holiness." 

With  the  words,  he  turned  to  fumble  among  the  scrolls 
which  crowded  his  scrip ;  but  before  he  could  pick  out  the 
Pope's  missive,  Pepin  and  young  Karl  came  running  back, 
with  word  that  Deacon  Alcuin  was  in  waiting. 

Their  father  rose  at  once  and  signed  to  the  abbot. 

"  Another  time,  Fulrad,"  he  said.  "  Come  now  and  see 
our  school." 


CHAPTER  V 


Out  then  went  Sigurd, 
The  great  king's  well-loved, 


From  the  speech  and  the  sorrow, 
Sore  drooping,  sore  grieving.  - 

VOLSUNGA  SAGA. 


the  king  passed  down  the  main 
corridor  of  the  villa  with  Fulrad, 
Liutrad  touched  the  arm  of  his 
yj^^p  earl,   and   Olvir,   giving   instant 

£       [  heed  to  the  sign,  dropped  behind 

•T™  Gerold  and  the  chattering  young 

^  Franks. 

C/  f  «  What  now,  lad  ?  "  he  asked, 

as  the  others  hastened  on. 

For  several  paces  Liutrad 
walked  along  beside  him  without  replying.  Then,  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  stone  pavement,  he  stammered  slowly: 
"  Ring-breaker,  —  friend,  —  I  must  speak  out !  You  your- 
self first  taught  me  runes,  and  so  —  and  so  —  but  already 
you  're  aware  how  I  Ve  been  drawn  to  the  White  Christ. 
I  know  you  '11  not  be  harsh.  There  are  Alcuin  and  Deacon 
Paul  and  many  others,  —  they  speak  powerfully.  I  am 
almost  persuaded  to  become  a  monk." 

"A  monk!"  cried  Olvir.  "Has  it  come  to  this? 
Would  that  long  since  I  had  called  you  aboard  ship  and 
sailed  away  to  Trondheim  Fiord!  The  son  of  Erling  a 
monk !  —  a  beggarly,  wifeless,  kinless,  childless  thing  I  By 
Thor,  sooner  would  I  strike  you  dead !  Can  you  not  your- 
self read  and  put  into  deed  the  runes  of  the  White  Christ? 
Did  He  not  take  part  in  the  wedding  feast  at  Cana?  " 

281 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"True,  Olvir;  and  I  know  well  your  horror  of  the 
cloisters.  I,  too,  have  felt  that  loathing." 

"  You  may  well  say  loathing !  Man  is  here  on  earth 
to  live,  —  to  live  in  fulness  of  life,  abounding  in  health  and 
strength  for  the  joy  and  uplifting  alike  of  himself  and  of 
others.  What,  then,  is  more  holy  than  wedlock  and  the 
rearing  of  strong  sons  and  pure  daughters  for  the  welfare 
of  the  land?" 

"  Enough,  earl,"  replied  Liutrad,  in  a  low  voice.  "  I 
shall  never  become  a  monk.  But  I  long  to  give  myself  to 
Christ.  The  secular  clergy  —  " 

"  Rather,  to  the  Bishop  of  Rome.  You  *d  shear  off 
your  long  locks  to  become  the  thrall  of  a  woman-clad 
Roman.  But  the  evil  is  less  than  I  dreaded.  Fulrad  has 
told  me  of  the  king's  friendship  for  you.  Before  many 
years  we  may  look  to  see  Karl  name  you  a  bishop.  As 
such,  you  'd  hold  no  small  measure  of  power  and  wealth, 
—  a  mitred  priest-earl,  with  all  the  gold  and  wares  and 
lands  of  your  bishopric  to  give  or  take  according  to  your 
own  will.  You  could  do  no  little  good  among  the  down- 
trodden poor  folk.  So;  it  might  be  worse.  When  I  sail 
home  again  to  Lade,  I  shall  not  have  to  speak  of  the  son 
of  Erling  with  face  downcast,  but  can  name  him  in  full 
voice  a  high  liegeman  of  the  Frank  king,  —  an  earl  of  the 
White  Christ." 

"  May  it  be  long  before  you  leave  us,  Olvir ! "  ex- 
claimed Liutrad,  and  he  paused  to  clasp  the  hands  of  his 
gravely  smiling  companion.  Then  together  they  followed 
the  Franks  into  the  great  hall  of  the  villa. 

After  the  ornate  magnificence  of  the  Roman  basilicas, 
the  audience-chamber  appeared  far  less  imposing  to  Olvir 
than  would  have  been  the  case  before  his  Italian  mis- 
sion. Interesting  as  were  the  hunting  trophies  and  the 
rich  tapestries  which  decorated  the  wall,  he  was  more 

282 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

attracted  by  the  gaily  clad  group  of  lords  and  clergy 
about  the  dais. 

As  the  courtiers  parted  before  the  king,  Olvir's  gaze 
fell  upon  the  crafty,  shrivelled  face  of  Kosru,  the  Magian 
leech,  side  by  side  with  Count  Hardrat's  bloated  visage. 
Though  more  sober  in  look  than  of  old,  the  Thuringian's 
eyes  had  acquired  a  furtive  glance,  and  his  features  had 
grown  much  harsher  in  outline. 

"  There  stand  an  odd  pair  of  scholars  for  the  Engle- 
man,"  muttered  Olvir. 

"  You  mean  Hardrat  and  the  Asiaman.  The  old  leech 
has  long  been  known  as  a  searcher  for  lore ;  but  that  such 
a  one  as  my  red  pig  should  show,  little  less  hunger  for 
knowledge  than  the  king  himself  is,  to  say  the  least,  very 
strange.  It  is  even  said  that  he  takes  part  with  the  leech 
and  Fastrada  in  their  study  of  the  black  art.  Heaven  for- 
fend,  ring-breaker,  that  the  daughter  of  Rudulf  seek  to 
weave  again  the  spell  which  she  cast  on  you  in  the 
Southland!" 

"  Never  fear,  lad ;  I  Ve  seen  the  werwolf's  teeth  once. 
There  is  no  need  for  a  second  sight." 

"  Yet  I  beg  you  to  beware,  Olvir.  From  Kosru,  the 
maiden  has  had  the  gift  of  a  ring  set  with  magic  opal.  The 
hues  of  the  wonderful  gem  shift  and  change  like  the  tints 
of  the  maiden's  eyes.  Few  can  withstand  the  power  of  that 
spell ;  nor  has  the  maiden  lost  the  charm  of  her  beauty.  In 
face,  as  in  form,  she  is  lovelier  than  ever." 

"  Forewarned,  forearmed,"  rejoined  Olvir.  "  And  I 
bear  a  charm  to  withstand  all  the  spells  of  the  Thuringian, 
—  the  memory  of  a  little  child-maid." 

"  Rothada !  She  came  again  from  Chelles  not  a  fort- 
night since.  Our  lord  king  gave  her  leave  to  go  back  when 
you  fared  away  to  Italy.  But  see ;  the  king  beckons  to  us. 
No;  it  is  to  Abbot  Fulrad.  Yet  we  should  be  seeking 

283 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

our  places;  the  others  draw  up  their  benches.  And  here 
comes  the  queen.  The  school  will  soon  open." 

"  Lead  on,"  said  Olvir,  eager  to  draw  nearer  the  pri- 
vate passage  by  which  Hildegarde  and  her  maidens  were 
entering  the  hall.  Liutrad  advanced  at  once ;  but  the  move 
failed  to  bring  his  earl  that  which  he  sought.  Hildegarde 
had  paused  just  across  the  threshold,  to  meet  the  boister- 
ous welcome  of  Gerold;  and  while  brother  and  sister  ex- 
changed greetings,  Olvir  looked  in  vain  for  the  face  he 
longed  to  see  among  the  half-score  of  maidens  who  slipped 
into  the  hall  behind  the  queen.  While  he  yet  stood  there, 
disappointed  and  hesitating,  the  queen  turned  to  him  from 
Gerold. 

"  Welcome  to  my  lord's  bright  Dane !  "  she  said.  "  I 
see,  Olvir,  that  your  wrist  is  still  burdened  with  my 
ring." 

"  I  have  never  ceased  to  wear  it,  dear  dame,  with  rev- 
erence and  gratitude  for  the  giver,"  replied  Olvir,  as  he 
bowed  to  kiss  the  queen's  extended  hand. 

Hildegarde  gazed  graciously  into  his  dark  face,  and 
answered  him  with  quiet  earnestness :  "  We  seek  to  make 
you  a  gift,  Olvir,  far  more  precious  than  any  ring,  —  a 
pearl  beyond  price.  There  is  now  but  one  thing  in  the 
way,  —  your  resistance  to  the  voice  of  Holy  Church.  You 
have  won  a  warm  place  in  our  hearts,  Olvir.  Consider 
well,  and  do  not  let  your  pride  bar  your  way  into  Christ's 
fold." 

"I  shall  weigh  the  matter  with  utmost  care,"  said 
Olvir ;  and  the  answer  brought  a  glow  to  the  anxious  face 
of  the  queen.  But  while  Liutrad  and  her  brother  escorted 
the  royal  dame  to  the  dais,  he  stood  lost  in  thought,  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  rushes  at  his  feet. 

He  was  aroused  by  a  well-remembered  voice,  whose 
soft  murmur  would  have  been  inaudible  but  for  its  sibi- 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


lance:  "Welcome  to  Count  Olvir!     Will  he  not  let  by- 
gones be  bygones,  and  swear  the  peace-oath?  " 

Olvir  started  and  stared  keenly  about  him.  On  his 
right,  framed  as  it  were  by  the  curtained  doorway,  and 
almost  within  arm's  length,  stood  the  daughter  of  Rudulf, 
gazing  at  him  from  beneath  her  drooping  lashes  with  an 
indescribable  look,  —  a  half-smile,  full  of  insolence  and 
dread,  of  love  and  hate.  For  the  moment  all  the  wild 
whirl  of  conflicting  emotions  which  the  unexpected  sight 
of  her  former  lover  had  aroused  in  the  Thuringian's  breast 
stood  out  plain  to  view  on  her  face,  through  its  court-mask 
of  dissimulation. 

Olvir  had  no  need  to  look  twice  to  assure  himself 
that  Liutrad  was  not  mistaken  when  he  spoke  of  the 
maiden's  ripened  beauty.  She  had  certainly  lost  none  of 
her  former  loveliness,  and  art  had  added  no  little  to  her 
charms.  The  purple  dress,  cut  low  after  the  latest  Prank- 
ish fashion,  suggested  every  soft  curve  of  the  girl's  rounded 
form  ;  her  brown  hair,  with  its  gleams  of  gold,  was  bound 
by  a  diadem  of  all  but  queenly  splendor  ;  while  the  fingers 
of  her  right  hand  were  covered  with  gem-rings  half  to  the 
tips.  But  on  her  left  hand,  which  she  held  out  to  the 
Northman,  there  was  only  one  ornament,  —  the  ring  whose 
reputed  magical  powers  had  caused  Liutrad  so  much  un- 
easiness. It  was  fashioned  of  two  miniature  serpents,  one 
black,  the  other  red,  which  held  in  their  jaws  an  opal  of 
great  size  and  peculiar  fire. 

For  a  moment  Olvir  stood  hesitating;  then  he  took 
the  girl's  hand,  and  answered  her  gravely  :  "  I  take  the 
peace  offered  by  Count  Rudulf's  daughter.  There  is  a 
saying  that  those  who  have  broken  betrothal  bonds  can 
never  join  in  friendship.  I  trust  that  with  us  it  may  prove 
otherwise.  At  the  least,  I  shall  seek  to  heal  the  wrong 
which  I  wrought  against  you." 
_  285 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  And  I,  Olvir !  "  murmured  the  girl,  the  rich  blood 
leaping  to  her  cheeks.  "  I  give  thanks  for  your  —  friend- 
ship. We  were  not  fated  to  meet  under  the  same  roof  with 
cold  hearts." 

"  True,  maiden.  The  past  is  past.  I  rejoice  that  you 
would  now  bury  it,  and  accept  friendship  instead  of 
bitterness." 

A  look  too  subtle  even  for  the  Northman's  eyes  flitted 
across  the  girl's  face,  and  she  tightened  the  handclasp 
which  he  was  relaxing. 

"  It  is  then  peace  and  —  friendship,"  she  said.  "  Come ; 
the  questions  begin,  —  Deacon  Alcuin  fingers  his  scrolls. 
Yonder  is  a  bench  behind  the  others.  You  shall  sit  beside 
me  and  enlighten  my  dull  wit." 

"  As  you  will,"  replied  Olvir,  and  he  turned  at  once  to 
comply. 

As  the  couple  seated  themselves  on  a  bench  in  the  rear 
of  the  main  group  of  students,  Alcuin  selected  one  of  the 
scrolls  handed  him  by  his  pupils,  and  bowed  to  the  king. 

"  Your  Majesty,  all  is  in  readiness,"  he  said. 

At  the  word,  Karl  glanced  about  the  hall.  All  present 
except  Alcuin  were  now  seated ;  but  the  king  gazed  up  and 
down  the  benches  until  he  caught  sight  of  Olvir.  Then  he 
nodded  and  replied :  "  It  is  well ;  the  lesson  will  now  begin. 
Summon  all  your  lore,  my  dear  teacher.  We  have  with  us 
to-day  a  new-comer  whose  wits  are  keen  as  his  sword." 

"  Such  learning,  sire,  as  I  have  gained  from  the  Holy 
Fathers,  I  stand  ready  to  impart.  But  who  may  say  that  he 
knows  all  of  wisdom?  Not  even  Solomon,  son  of  David, 
could  so  claim." 

"  What  is  wisdom?  "  queried  Karl. 

"  The  fruit  of  knowledge,  —  the  soul  of  learning." 

"  And  learning?  " 

"  The  inscribed  knowledge  of  the  ancients." 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"What  says  my  bright  Dane  to  that?" 

Olvir  started  up  at  the  question,  and  saluted  the  king. 

"  I  am  over-new  in  this  game  to  take  active  part,  sire," 
he  said.  "  I  do  not  even  know  its  rules." 

"Another  time,  then,  lad.  You  will  soon  learn  our 
ways.  We  will  now  follow  the  lessons  set  for  the  day. 
Worad  was  to  question  Alcuin  on  dialectics." 

As  the  young  Frank  rose  to  confront  the  master,  Olvir 
sat  down  again  beside  Fastrada,  and  fell  to  musing,  heed- 
less alike  of  the  learned  disputants  and  of  his  fair  bench- 
mate. 

In  the  midst  of  his  revery,  he  was  roused  by  Fastrada, 
who,  under  cover  of  Alcuin's  voice,  leaned  over  and  whis- 
pered softly:  "Look,  my  hero  friend.  Here  comes  one 
whom  I  doubt  if  you  can  name.  Though  she  has  not  yet 
taken  the  veil,  Gisela  has  all  but  made  a  nun  of  her." 

"How?    Ah!" 

Rothada  had  come  in  by  the  queen's  entrance,  and  was 
already  close  at  hand,  gliding  silently  over  the  rushes.  It 
was  little  wonder  that  Olvir,  after  the  first  quick  start  of 
recognition,  sat  staring  at  the  king's  daughter,  with  lips 
parted  and  black  eyes  glistening.  He  did  not  see  the 
Rothada  for  whom  he  had  looked.  That  gay,  bright-eyed 
child-maid  was  gone,  and  in  her  stead  was  a  maiden  no  less 
lissome  than  the  little  vala,  but  taller,  and  grave  with 
habitual  meditation.  The  slight  pallor  of  her  face,  together 
with  the  spirituality  of  its  look,  gave  to  her  features  an 
ethereal  —  almost  unearthly  —  beauty. 

As  she  was  about  to  pass  by,  unconscious  of  his  pres- 
ence, Olvir  uttered  a  stifled  cry.  Rothada  looked  down, 
and  met  his  eager  gaze.  At  sight  of  him  she  halted,  as 
though  struck,  and  he  could  see  her  eyes  widen  and  darken 
with  doubt  and  vague  dread.  Her  first  impulse  apparently 
was  to  hasten  on ;  but  she  checked  herself,  and  was  about 
.  287 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

to  speak,  when  she  chanced  to  catch  Fastrada's  look  of  in- 
solent triumph.  At  that  a  flush  rose  in  her  white  cheeks, 
and  without  a  word  of  greeting  she  passed  quickly  by  to 
her  stool,  on  the  dais  beside  Hildegarde. 

For  a  moment  Olvir  sat  staring  in  utter  bewilderment. 
Then  the  hot  blood  leaped  into  his  face,  and  he  sprang  to 
his  feet.  Heedless  of  the  disputing  scholars,  of  the  Thu- 
ringian,  with  her  short-lived  triumph,  of  the  king  himself, 
he  stalked  down  the  hall,  his  head  high,  and  his  eyes 
flashing. 


288 


CHAPTER  VI 

One  I  loved, 

One  and  none  other, 

The  gold-decked  may. 

LAY  OP  SIGURD. 

OR  several  days  Olvir  avoided 
the  villa,  pleading  the  need  of 
overlooking  the  affairs  of  his 
men.  At  last,  however,  Karl 
himself,  chancing  to  pass 
through  the  viking  camp  from  a 
hunt  down  the  Moselle,  stopped 
to  bid  Olvir  attend  the  mass  in 
the  royal  chapel  on  Christmas 
Day.  There  could  be  no  excuse 
for  failing  to  obey  the  direct  command  of  the  king,  and 
Olvir  came  to  the  service  in  his  gayest  dress.  But  with 
him  for  fellow  he  brought  the  grim  Floki. 

The  gloomy  chapel  exhibited  a  sepulchral  magnifi- 
cence well  in  keeping  with  the  ascetic  spirit  of  priest  and 
monk.  The  few  and  broken  sun-rays  which  struggled 
in  through  the  narrow  windows  glistened  brightly  on  the 
screens  and  gates  of  polished  brass  and  the  jewelled 
images  of  kings  and  saints  in  the  wall  niches.  The  nave, 
crowded  with  courtly  worshippers,  was  further  brightened 
by  the  glint  of  polished  steel,  the  rich  colors  of  precious 
fabrics,  and  a  bewildering  display  of  gold  and  gems. 

Yet  the  magnificence  of  the  nave  was  nothing  to  the 
splendor  of  the  chancel.     There,  from  giant  silver  can- 
19  289 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

delabra,  hundreds  of  tapers  shed  their  radiance  over  the 
sumptuous  decorations  of  the  altar,  the  gold  crucifix,  the 
tapestries  of  white  silk,  emblazoned  with  griffins  and  pea- 
cocks, the  gold  vessels  of  the  officiating  priests,  and  the 
white  cassocks  of  the  Italian  choir. 

But  notwithstanding  the  presence  of  king  and  court, 
the  solemn  harmony  of  the  Gregorian  chants,  and  the  im- 
pressiveness  of  the  ceremony  as  conducted  by  the  vener- 
able Fulrad,  there  were  two  onlookers  present  who  stood 
throughout  the  mass  unbending  and  irreverent. 

"By  the  hair  of  Sif,  ring-breaker,"  muttered  Floki, 
in  the  midst,  "here  is  enough  of  gold  to  stock  a  dozen 
godi-houses." 

"  It  is  nothing  to  the  hoard  in  the  temple  of  the  godi 
of  Rome.  That  is  all  but  sheathed  with  gold,  wrung  by 
Holy  Church  from  the  sweat  and  blood  of  slaves!  But  I 
will  not  give  way  to  bitterness.  This  is  a  merry  day  to  the 
Christian  folk;  we  also  will  be  light  of  heart.  Look  how 
the  beams  sparkle  among  the  gem-stones.  I  choose  those 
before  your  dull  gold.  See  their  bright  hues,  —  blue  and 
green  and  purple,  —  ay !  and  red  as  the  life-blood  of  white 
biorn  gushing  upon  the  snow." 

"  I  have  eyes,  son  of  Thorbiorn.  There  is  one  flagon 
which  alone  is  worth  a  king's  wergild,  —  the  jewelled  cup 
that  the  Godi  Fulrad  holds  aloft.  By  Thor!  that  is  a 
wassail-bowl  worth  the  having.  Not  Otkar  himself  could 
have  drained  it  at  a  draught." 

"  True,  old  Crane ;  and  it  may  hold  even  more  than 
our  eyes  show  us.  Tell  me,  —  you  have  now  dwelt  many 
seasons  in  Frank  Land,  —  what  is  your  thought  of  the 
White  Christ?  " 

Floki  scratched  his  long  nose,  and  glanced  shrewdly 
about  the  chapel  before  replying. 

"  You  ask  a  hard  riddle,  earl,"  he  muttered.  "  I  should 
290 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

answer  that  He  is  Odin  and  Balder  —  and  more  —  in  One. 
Yet  why  should  I  bend  knee  to  Him?  I  have  seen  how 
His  runes  have  drawn  the  temper  of  your  keen  spirit  and 
marred  your  old-time  joy  of  battle.  What  greater  loss 
could  befall  a  viking?  So  I  will  yet  drink  to  Thor,  trust- 
ing in  my  own  craft  and  the  sweep  of  my  halberd." 

"  I  will  not  say  you  are  wrong,"  replied  Olvir.  "  At 
the  least,  one  cannot  do  the  will  of  the  White  Christ  and 
take  joy  in  sword-play;  that  I  see  clearly,  though  these 
Christian  priests  teach  otherwise.  Some  day  I  must  make 
my  choice,  either  to  ungirt  Al-hatif  from  my  side,  or  to 
burn  my  Christ-runes." 

"  Thor!  "  croaked  Floki;  "  it  is  time  for  a  little  sword- 
play  to  stir  your  kingly  blood.  With  the  springtime,  earl, 
there  '11  be  call  for  your  heron  beak." 

"How?    To  peck  the  Saxon  wolves?" 

"  They  '11  be  afoot  in  full  pack,  else  I  've  lost  my  scent 
for  blood.  Nor  is  that  the  whole  saga.  I  smell  blood  on 
another  trail,  —  one  which  leads  from  the  king's  hall." 

"  Treason  again !  I  had  thought  that  with  the  subtle 
Lupus  gone  —  " 

"  Gone  —  ay ;  but  he  left  one  behind  him  little  less 
subtle.  The  Grey  Wolf's  daughter  might  teach  cunning  to 
Odin,  and  she  does  not  lack  of  crafty  mates.  More  than 
once  I  have  seen  her  in  the  forest  border,  waiting  for  Earl 
Hardrat  and  that  wizened  warlock  Kosru." 

"  I  have  heard  of  that  from  Liutrad.  They  go  to 
practise  witchcraft." 

"Then  I  am  dull  at  riddles,  earl.  It  is  treason  the 
three  brew  in  the  woodland,  not  spell-herbs." 

"  A  fearsome  brewing,"  said  Olvir,  smiling,  "  an  old 
man,  a  maiden,  and  a  drunkard." 

"  The  fox,  the  adder,  and  the  full-tushed  boar,"  re- 
joined Floki.  "  Craft  cuts  sharper  than  any  sword.  As  to 

291 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Liutrad's  red  pig,  he  has  put  away  the  wassail-bowl.  I 
name  the  Thuringian  no  mean  foe.  He  has  the  strength  of 
a  bull,  and  far  more  of  wit  than  in  the  past,  now  that  the 
beer  seeps  from  his  brain." 

"  Yet  I  see  in  all  this  nothing  more  than  a  love  tryst, 
with  witchery  for  a  blind.  Even  granting  that  the  red  pig 
has  grown  tushes,  we  will  have  our  boar-spears  at  hand 
when  there  is  need.  As  to  your  fox  and  adder  —  But  see ; 
the  mass  is  at  an  end.  The  king  turns  to  withdraw." 

Floki  stared  down  at  his  earl  with  a  wry  look ;  but  as 
Karl,  in  all  the  stateliness  of  his  majesty  and  manhood, 
came  down  the  aisle,  side  by  side  with  his  beautiful  queen, 
the  grim  viking  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  and 
sought  to  imitate  his  earl's  easy  salute.  The  upswing  of 
the  giant's  arm  drew  upon  him  Hildegarde's  glance.  At  a 
word  from  her,  Karl  turned  to  smile  at  the  Northmen,  and 
spoke  briefly  with  Worad.  Immediately  the  Count  Pala- 
tine slipped  aside,  and  informed  Floki  that  the  queen 
wished  to  inquire  about  the  training  of  the  king's  sons. 

Floki  pushed  out  among  the  courtiers.  But  Olvir, 
muttering  a  hasty  response  to  Worad's  greeting,  drew 
back  into  a  niche  behind  a  pillar.  As  he  did  so,  his  eyes 
rested  for  an  instant  upon  Fastrada.  The  girl  was  gazing 
directly  at  him,  her  head  thrown  back,  her  eyes  narrowed 
to  a  line.  When  she  caught  his  glance,  she  smiled  and 
passed  on,  looking  down  at  the  rings  on  her  clasped  hands. 

Olvir's  face  clouded,  and  his  hand  went  unwittingly  to 
the  hilt  of  his  dagger.  A  moment,  and  the  dark  mood  was 
past ;  for  his  gaze  fell  upon  Rothada  in  her  simple  novice's 
dress.  She  had  lingered  at  her  devotions  after  the  benedic- 
tion, and  now  came  slowly  down  the  aisle  behind  the  other 
worshippers.  Her  head  was  bent,  and  her  lips  moved  with 
the  prayers  which  her  white  fingers  told  off  on  the  rosary 
of  pearls  about  her  throat. 

292 


The  girl  was  so  absorbed  in  her  devotions  that  she 
failed  to  see  Olvir  even  when  he  stepped  out  beside  her. 
Restraining  his  eagerness,  he  silently  followed  her  down 
the  aisle  and  out  of  the  chapel.  But  at  the  first  lateral 
passage  which  opened  into  the  main  corridor,  he  took  her 
by  the  arm  and  drew  her  within  the  doorway. 

"  Stay  a  moment,  little  vala,"  he  said  quietly.  "  I 
would  speak  with  you." 

"  Olvir !  "  exclaimed  the  girl,  in  a  startled  voice.  Her 
hands  pressed  tightly  together  on  her  bosom,  and  she 
stared  at  him,  her  eyes  dark  with  fear. 

"How  is  this?"  demanded  Olvir,  almost  angrily. 
"Have  I  grown  tushes  that  the  maiden  whose  troth  I 
hold  cannot  look  at  me  without  dread?  " 

"  Do  not  be  harsh,  Lord  Olvir ! "  murmured  the  girl. 
"  Truly,  I  have  sought  to  avoid  you ;  on  my  knees  I  begged 
my  father  that  I  might  stay  at  Chelles.  Oh,  why  cannot  I, 
like  Gisela,  win  the  peace  and  holy  joy  of  the  cloister?  " 

"  Because  you  are  too  true  of  heart  to  break  troth,  little 
may,"  replied  Olvir.  "  See ;  this  passage  leads  to  a  room 
which  opens  on  the  garden-court.  Come  within,  where  the 
light  is  clear,  and  we  can  look  into  each  other's  eyes." 

A  faint  blush  crept  into  Rothada's  cheeks,  and  her 
gaze  fell  before  Olvir's;  but,  bowing  her  head  submis- 
sively, she  led  the  way  down  the  passage.  Close  behind 
her  followed  Olvir,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  dainty  head 
beneath  its  white  wimple. 

In  the  middle  of  the  postern-room,  where  the  white 
light  of  the  winter's  sun  streamed  through  the  narrow 
window,  Olvir  stopped  the  girl  with  a  touch,  and  placed 
himself  so  that  he  could  look  directly  into  her  face. 

"  Little  vala,"  he  said,  "  I  must  first  ask  you  to  make 
clear  the  meaning  of  your  long  silence.  Whether  your 
answer  brings  me  joy  or  pain,  I  cannot  wait  longer;  I 

293 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

must  know  the  truth  now.  Four  years  and  more  have 
passed  since  you  gave  me  your  troth." 

Rothada  glanced  up  at  him  quickly,  and  then  her  eyes 
fell  to  her  novice's  dress. 

"  Lord  Olvir  speaks  of  my  troth,"  she  answered  in  a 
low  but  clear  voice.  "  If  he  doubts  it,  let  him  look  at  these 
pearls  about  my  throat,  —  the  pearls  which  he  gave  me  in 
the  Southland." 

"  And  yet,  Rothada,  many  as  were  my  messages  to 
you,  never  once  through  all  those  years  did  you  send 
answer." 

"  You  remembered  me,  Lord  Olvir ! "  cried  the  girl, 
and  she  gazed  up  into  her  lover's  eyes,  her  face  radiant. 

"  Remember !  "  repeated  Olvir.  "  And,  could  I  have 
forgotten,  were  not  my  sea-wolves  at  hand  to  keep  me  in 
mind?  I  never  once  sent  you  greeting  and  pledge  of  my 
faith  but  your  grim  worshippers  begged  leave  to  add  their 
gifts.  Yet  when  year  after  year  passed  by  without  an- 
swering word  from  you,  they,  like  myself,  grew  weary  of 
sending.  If  the  little  vala's  heart  had  been  so  chilled  by 
her  cloister-dwelling  that  she  chose  to  forget  those  who 
loved  her,  we  could  not  love  her  the  less,  but  we  would 
cease  to  fret  her  with  the  tokens  of  our  love." 

"  Which  never  came !  Oh,  Olvir,  there  's  been  a  bitter 
mistake!  I  never  once  had  word  or  token  that  you  or 
those  grim  warriors  held  me  in  kind  memory.  The  months 
dragged  by, — the  weary  years, — and  no  word  from  Vascon 
Land.  Then  I  thought  you  'd  all  forgotten  me,  and  in  my 
sorrow  I  turned  for  comfort  to  our  Lord  Christ.  In  Him 
I  found  peace,  and  I  longed  to  give  myself  to  Him,  as 
Gisela  begged  me;  but  I  could  not,  for  I  had  promised  to 
wait  your  coming." 

"  Loki ! "  muttered  Olvir,  and  he  struck  his  thigh. 
"  Not  all  my  sendings  could  have  gone  astray  by  chance. 

294 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


There's  been  a  plot  against  me!  Your  holy  Abbess 
Gisela —  But  what  odds?  Little  vala,  little  may,  if  you 
still  doubt  my  troth,  look  at  what  lies  about  my  throat." 

Rothada  raised  her  eyes  to  the  strand  of  glossy  hair, 
whose  ends,  severed  by  the  rock  in  the  gorge  of  Ronces- 
valles,  had  been  rejoined  by  a  golden  clasp.  At  sight  of 
the  token,  she  uttered  a  cry  of  naive  delight,  and  her  eyes 
beamed  up  into  Olvir's  full  of  tender  trust.  Her  beauty, 
pearl-like  in  its  soft,  pure  lustre,  filled  him  with  such  long- 
ing that  he  could  no  longer  restrain  himself. 

"  Dearest !  "  he  cried,  and,  kneeling  to  her,  he  clasped 
her  hand  and  held  it  to  his  lips. 

Smiling  and  blushing,  Rothada  sought  to  draw  away. 
But  when  she  found  she  could  not  escape,  she  thrust  her 
fingers  into  her  lover's  hair,  and,  tugging  playfully  at  the 
bright  locks,  burst  out  in  her  old-time,  merry  laugh. 

"  Free  me !  free  me,  Lord  Olvir ! "  she  protested  in 
mock  severity.  "  Am  I  not  the  king's  daughter?  By  what 
right  do  you  hold  me  in  thraldom?  " 

"  See,  then,  dear  heart ;  I  free  you,"  replied  Olvir,  as 
he  sprang  up.  "  You  have  but  to  speak,  and  I  bend  to  your 
wish,  sweet  princess.  Yet  I  have  double  right  to  hold  you 
fast,  —  the  will  of  your  father  and  your  own  love." 

"  My  love ! "  murmured  the  girl,  and  she  blushed. 
Her  eyes  sank,  and  she  drew  back  shyly. 

"  Your  love,  dearest  one,"  repeated  Olvir,  and  he  held 
out  his  arms. 

But  then  a  sudden  coldness  fell  upon  her.  The  color 
faded  from  her  cheeks,  and  the  happy  light  died  out  of  her 
eyes. 

"  Lord  Christ  forgive  me !  "  she  cried.  "  Oh,  I  did  not 
mean  to  give  way,  Olvir.  Truly  I  do  love  you,  —  I  am  so 
weak  and  wicked  I  cannot  but  tell  it,  —  I  do  love  you, 
Olvir,  my  bright  hero !  And  yet  —  and  yet,  what  is  there 

295 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

for  us  but  grief  and  parting?  Even  did  my  father  assent, 
how  could  I  wed  one  who  will  not  bend  knee  to  Christ,  — 
a  — a  heathen?" 

Olvir  caught  up  the  girl's  hand,  and,  clasping  it  be- 
tween his  own,  gazed  steadily  into  her  tearful  eyes. 

"  Listen  to  me,  dear  heart,"  he  said.  "  You  have  lis- 
tened to  the  idle  tales  of  others;  you  shall  now  judge  for 
yourself.  I  render  no  worship  to  the  heathen  gods;  but 
each  week,  as  it  passes  around,  I  meditate  upon  the  words 
and  deeds  of  the  White  Christ.  With  my  whole  heart  I 
strive  to  worship  the  almighty,  all-good  God,  His  Father 
and  our  Father.  Answer  me,  then,  little  vala ;  am  I  to  be 
named  among  the  heathen?  " 

"  Ah,  the  blessed  saints  be  praised ! "  cried  Rothada. 
"  Then  all  that  they  tell  of  you  is  false.  You  do  not  mock 
at  His  Holiness  the  Pope,  nor  deride  Holy  Church?" 

"  I  no  longer  mock,  dear  one ;  yet  I  bend  knee  only  to 
the  will  of  God  in  my  own  heart.  What  one  among  your 
Christian  priests  and  monks,  the  most  learned  of  whom 
can  hardly  spell  out  Holy  Writ,  shall  say  that  I  am  wicked 
and  heathen?  I  accept  fully  the  sayings  of  the  White 
Christ,  and  strive  to  live  them.  Enough,  Rbthada;  I  will 
say  no  more.  Choose  whether  you  will  give  yourself  to 
me  as  I  am," 

"  What  shall  I  say,  Olvir?  "  replied  the  girl.  "  I  know 
now  you  are  no  heathen.  But  I  cannot  understand,  —  ! 
do  not  see  how  you  bend  to  our  Lord  Christ,  and  yet  do 
not  give  reverence  to  those  who  stand  in  His  stead." 

"Let  your  heart  speak  for  you,  dearest.  If  I  am 
wrong,  leave  it  to  Alcuin  and  his  fellows  to  show  me  my 
mistake." 

Rothada  clasped  her  hands  together,  and  sighed  with 
heartfelt  relief. 

"  Surely,  Olvir,  if  you  are  wrong,  they  will  show  it  to 
296 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

you,"  she  said.  Trustful  as  a  little  child,  she  clasped  the 
outstretched  hands  of  her  lover,  and  raised  her  lips  for  his 
kiss,  her  eyes  shining  with  happiness.  The  touch  of  her 
lips,  tender  and  fragrant  as  a  briar-rose,  sent  a  thrill 
through  Olvir's  whole  being.  But  he  did  not  take  her  in 
his  arms.  As  he  gazed  into  her  eyes,  a  sudden  sense  of 
unworthiness  came  upon  him.  For  the  second  time,  he 
sank  down  before  her,  humbly  and  reverently  as  a  wor- 
shipper at  the  shrine  of  a  beloved  saint. 

"  This  day  has  God  my  Father  blessed  me  with  a  great 
blessing,"  he  murmured.  "  He  has  given  into  my  keeping 
the  heart  of  a  pure  maiden.  May  He  give  me  strength  and 
wisdom  to  prove  myself  worthy  of  so  great  a  trust ! " 

"  Do  not  be  foolish,  dearest,"  answered  Rothada.  "  If 
our  Lord  God  has  given  you  my  heart,  He  has  given  me 
your  love.  How,  then,  can  there  be  room  for  doubt?  " 

"  My  princess !  Who  am  I  that  I  should  win  the  Pearl 
of  Great  Price?" 

"  Hush !  oh,  hush,  my  hero  I  You  take  in  vain  the 
words  of  Holy  Writ.  It  grieves  me." 

"  I  speak  the  truth.  In  the  eyes  of  God  there  can  be 
nothing  holier  than  a  pure  maiden.  More  than  all  else  I 
hate  and  despise  the  teaching  of  your  Christian  priests 
that  women  are  the  chief  cause  of  sins.  That  is  a  lie.  But 
for  women,  men  would  be  as  wolves,  —  ravenous  wolves ! 
And  so,  darling  —  " 

"  Spare  me,  Olvir !  Truly,  you  grieve  my  heart.  I  am 
very  wicked." 

"  So  wicked  that  your  soul  would  gleam  white  on  new- 
fallen  snow !  Beware,  wicked  maiden !  For  your  naughti- 
ness, you  shall  be  given  in  marriage  —  " 

"  To  a  foolish  prattler,"  interrupted  Rothada,  with  a 
quick  return  of  gaiety,  and,  half  stooping,  she  clasped 
Olvir's  head  between  her  white  hands.  "  What  a  hero  is 

297 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

this  for  a  king's  daughter  to  wed,  —  a  thrall  bound  by  the 
collar  of  a  maiden !  " 

"  Many  a  king  would  gladly  kneel  where  I  kneel,  dear 
heart." 

"  No,  no,  you  foolish  hero.  Few  are  so  blind  as  to  see 
beauty  where  there  is  none.  I  am  very  happy  that  you  love 
me,  dearest ;  yet  I  wonder  at  your  love  when  I  think  of  the 
many  beautiful  maidens  with  Hildegarde.  Do  you  think 
it  strange  that  I  longed  to  go  back  to  Chelles,  when,  after 
all  those  weary  years  of  waiting,  I  came  upon  you  in  the 
hall,  side  by  side  with  that  maiden  — " 

"  —  Whose  very  name  is  unfit  for  your  pure  lips," 
muttered  Olvir.  "  As  you  love  me,  darling,  have  nothing 
to  do  with  her." 

"  I  will  do  as  you  wish,  Olvir.  Because  my  heart 
shrank  from  her,  I  had  felt  it  my  duty  to  seek  her  friend- 
ship. But  if  you  bid  me  shun  her  — " 

"  Thank  God  for  your  willingness !  May  we  never 
have  need  to  mention  her  name  again !  So  now,  dear  one  — 
Hark!  What  is  the  shouting?  " 

"  The  call  of  the  stewards.  We  linger  over-long.  The 
feast  is  ready;  and,  oh,  dear  hero,  how  shall  we  come  be- 
fore the  king  my  father?  " 

"  Have  no  fear,  darling.  The  king  has  already  pledged 
me  your  hand.  There  are  terms  to  be  first  met ;  but  trust 
me  to  see  that  in  good  time  they  be  fulfilled  or  set  aside. 
Until  then  it  seems  to  me  wise  that  we  should  keep  silent." 

"  Olvir,  I  should  like  to  at  least  tell  Hildegarde.  She 
is  so  gracious  and  kindly." 

"As  well  tell  the  king  himself,  simple  heart!  No, 
dearest,  we  had  best  wait.  It  will  not  be  for  long,  I  trust. 
And  now,  remember,  should  I  not  see  you  sooner,  the 
counts  are  to  join  my  vikings  in  the  Yule  games.  The 
king  himself  will  take  part.  Be  sure  to  come.  There  will 

298 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

be  merry  play,  and  the  Moselle  is  like  a  burnished  shield 
I  will  teach  you  to  skate." 

"  I  was  taught  long  since,  Olvir.  Berga,  my  maid,  is  a 
Frisian.  So  I  shall  soon  learn  again.  And  I  shall  not  fail 
to  attend  the  games,  —  to  —  to  see  the  deeds  of  the  king, 
my  father." 

For  a  moment  the  violet  eyes  were  upraised  in  a  look 
of  tender  mockery,  and  then  their  owner  was  darting  off  to 
join  the  queen's  following. 


299 


X 


J^CsJ^ 


CHAPTER  VII 


Fish  of  the  wildwood, 
Worm  smooth  crawling. 

VOLSUNGA  SAGA. 

EVER  had  Frank  or  viking 
known  fairer  weather  for  the 
Yule  games.  Each  day  the  sun 
shone  bright  through  the  frosty 
air;  the  snow  lay  hard  and  firm 
on  field  and  river-bank,  and  the 
Moselle  offered  to  the  feet  of  the 
skaters  its  broad  street  of  glassy 
ice. 

In  the  meadows  before  the 
villa,  hazel  rings  for  the  wrestling  had  been  enclosed, 
racing-courses  marked  out,  and  targets  set  up  for  the  con- 
tests with  spear  and  bow.  Northmen  and  Danes,  skilled 
in  their  own  sports,  burned  to  outmatch  the  king's  men  in 
the  games  of  Frank  Land,  and  the  proud  counts,  whether 
East  Frank  or  West  Frank,  Saxon,  Goth,  or  Lombard, 
were  no  less  zealous  to  prove  their  superiority  over  the 
outlanders.  Yet,  keen  as  was  the  rivalry,  good-humor 
prevailed  in  all  contests. 

Each  day  great  crowds  gathered  to  watch  the  games, 
and  to  skate  on  the  Moselle.  Not  a  viking  was  to  be  found 
in  the  high-peaked  huts,  and  such  inmates  of  the  villa  as 
failed  to  troop  out  after  the  king  to  the  field  of  games  did 
not  stay  behind  from  choice.  Aside  from  the  house-slaves, 
few  were  left  in  the  villa.  The  chapel  was  deserted  by  its 

300 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

priests  and  choristers,  and  the  hall  of  state  saw  little  of  the 
sleek  courtiers.  In  the  bower  only  a  maiden  or  two  and 
the  queen's  tiring-women  lingered  in  attendance  on  their 
mistress. 

The  morning  after  Christmas,  Hildegarde,  complain- 
ing of  a  headache,  had  sent  Fastrada  to  summon  Kosru  the 
leech  to  her  bedside.  The  Magian  had  at  once  pronounced 
her  sickness  to  be  of  a  nature  which,  while  not  dangerous, 
would  require  the  utmost  of  rest  and  quiet.  So  the  chatter- 
ing workers  were  sent  from  the  chamber,  and  Kosru  took 
up  his  quarters  in  the  anteroom,  to  overlook  the  queen's 
service  and  administer  her  sleeping-draught  with  his  own 
hand. 

Full  of  yearning  for  his  beautiful  queen,  Karl  would 
have  chosen  to  watch  at  her  bedside;  but  the  Magian's 
assurance  of  her  safety,  and  his  plea  for  absolute  quiet, 
sent  the  king  out  into  the  meadows  to  share  in  the  games. 
With  the  same  plea  and  assurance,  the  leech  also  turned 
Rbthada  away,  and  the  girl,  no  longer  dressed  as  a  novice, 
went  gaily  out  across  the  snow-fields  to  meet  her  lover. 

Behind,  in  the  silent  bower,  Hildegarde  lay  in  a  fever- 
ish sleep,  waking  only  to  sip  her  broth  and  to  drink  the 
sweetish  potion  which  was  to  lull  her  again  to  sleep.  But 
without,  in  the  merry  crowds,  was  one  who  took  good  care 
that  the  king  did  not  lack  company. 

From  morning  till  evening  the  daughter  of  Count 
Rudulf  found  occasion  to  be  always  within  reach  of  the 
king's  eye.  When  Karl  won  in  the  axe-throwing,  neither 
the  loud  applause  of  the  Franks  and  the  vikings,  nor  even 
Olvir's  gift  of  the  great  sword  Ironbiter  as  prize,  was  so 
gratifying  to  him  as  the  silent  and  half-awed  admiration 
of  the  Thuringian  maiden.  The  readiness  with  which  she 
joined  in  the  praise  of  Olvir's  archery  showed  him  how 
utterly  her  gentle  nature  had  been  misjudged;  and  when, 

301 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

skimming  beside  him  over  the  ice,  she  shyly  confided  her 
love  for  Rothada,  and  her  longing  to  see  Olvir  accept  bap- 
tism so  that  the  little  princess  might  wed  her  bright  hero, 
the  heart  of  the  great  Frank  went  out  to  the  girl  in  tender 
sympathy. 

At  every  turn  she  was  ready  to  please  and  amuse  him. 
Now  it  was  a  gentle  jest ;  now  a  murmured  phrase  whose 
flattery  was  too  subtle  to  startle  his  honest  Teuton  heart; 
and  always  accompanying  the  words  would  be  a  look 
whose  faint  suggestion  of  allurement  ever  gave  way  to  shy 
confusion.  Soon  Karl  began  to  give  heed  as  never  before 
to  the  many  charms  of  the  lovely  Thuringian.  Often  as  he 
had  remarked  her  beauty,  he  now  wondered  at  the  perfec- 
tion of  her  supple,  rounded  form  and  the  rich  bloom  of  her 
cheeks.  Others  might  own  greater  regularity  of  features, 
but  none  could  surpass  her  in  grace  of  movement  or  charm 
of  expression. 

But  most  of  all  the  king  was  pleased  and  his  heart 
touched  by  the  girl's  words  of  endearment  for  Rothada  and 
Hildegarde.  Her  inquiries  about  the  queen's  health  often 
ended  in  a  sigh,  and  a  naive  exclamation  of  how  happy 
must  be  the  lot  of  one  wedded  to  a  world-hero. 

So  the  days  of  Yuletide  slipped  by,  each  bringing  with 
it  new  games  on  the  Moselle  bank,  and  merry  play  for  the 
onlookers.  Even  young  Karl  and  Pepin  Hunchback  took 
part,  and  in  many  ways  proved  by  their  boyish  skill  the 
efficiency  of  Floki's  training.  Both  were  afield  from  dawn 
to  sunset,  and  when  not  testing  their  skill  at  the  butts  with 
bow  or  spear,  or  watching  some  hotly  contested  race  or 
wrestling  match,  they  were  to  be  found  skimming  over  the 
Moselle,  in  vain  efforts  to  follow  Olvir  and  their  sister. 

Dawn  of  the  last  day  of  Yule  brought  with  it  a  threat 
of  a  weather  change.  But  Franks  and  vikings  gathered 
as  usual  on  the  river-bank,  and  the  fact  that  this  day 

302 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

was  to  see  an  end  of  the  festivities  gave  added  zest  to 
the  games. 

None  hurried  afield  with  greater  eagerness  than  Pepin 
Hunchback  and  the  boy  Karl,  whom  Olvir  had  promised  to 
take  with  Rothada  down  the  Moselle.  Gerold  and  Liutrad 
were  also  to  be  of  the  party,  and  the  failure  of  the  latter  to 
appear  at  the  set  time  kept  the  others  waiting  on  the  bank 
for  an  hour  or  more. 

When  at  last  the  young  giant  did  arrive,  with  the  ex- 
cuse that  Abbot  Fulrad  had  needed  him,  Olvir,  who  had 
been  studying  the  sky,  urged  that  the  trip  be  given  over. 
But  at  this  the  king's  sons  cried  out  in  bitter  disappoint- 
ment. Liutrad  and  Gerold  good-naturedly  yielded  to  their 
appeals  to  plead  for  them,  and  Olvir  finally  consented  to  go 
part  way  on  the  intended  course.  Yet  before  he  would  give 
the  word  to  start,  he  first  sought  out  Floki  in  the  midst  of 
the  wrestlers,  and  while  the  lofty  viking  was  stripping  to 
enter  the  ring  spoke  a  brief  command  in  his  ear. 

As  he  approached  the  ring,  Olvir  had  passed  a  tall  and 
graceful  woman,  who  was  gazing  intently  across  to  where 
the  king  stood  bandying  jests  with  Fastrada.  The  gazer's 
face  had  been  muffled  in  her  scarf  and  hood,  and  when 
Olvir,  after  speaking  to  Floki,  turned  with  casual  curiosity 
to  observe  her  more  closely,  she  had  disappeared  in  the 
crowd.  But  a  little  later,  as  he  was  binding  on  Rothada's 
skates,  the  same  woman  came  down  the  river-bank,  and, 
half  running  to  young  Karl,  caught  him  in  her  embrace. 

"  Mother !  "  cried  the  boy,  clinging  to  her  neck. 

"  Hildegarde ! "  echoed  Gerold,  in  amazement,  as  the 
hood  fell  back  from  the  queen's  pale  face.  "  How  is  this, 
sister?  You're  mad  to  venture  out  —  " 

"  Hush,  Gerold ;  be  silent !  "  rejoined  the  queen.  "  I 
was  stifling  in  the  bower.  I  woke  when  all  were  gone  but 
the  leech.  He  lay  asleep,  outworn  with  watching;  so  I 

303 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

dressed  myself  and  passed  out  quietly,  that  his  rest  might 
not  be  broken.  Have  no  fear ;  my  strength  has  come  again, 
and  every  breath  of  the  wintry  air  fills  me  with  new  life. 
See ;  I  have  brought  my  skates.  I  will  join  you  on  the  ice." 

Rothada  came  and  put  her  arms  about  the  queen. 

"  We  had  thought  to  go  down  the  river,  mother,"  she 
said ;  "  but  now  that  you  are  with  us  —  " 

"  I  '11  run  tell  the  good  tidings  to  our  lord  king,"  broke 
in  Liutrad. 

"  No,  lad ;  stay !  "  exclaimed  Hildegarde,  and  she  drew 
the  hood  out  over  her  face  again.  "  It  would  mar  the 
games  should  his  Majesty  withdraw  from  the  field,  and  — 
and  there  would  be  great  outcry  were  my  presence  known. 
I  wish  quiet  —  peace  and  quiet  —  while  I  skim  about  on 
the  smooth  ice  and  breathe  in  the  pure  air.  Now  I  am  cold 
and  sad.  When  the  blood  leaps  freely  in  my  veins,  I  can 
join  the  folk  without  fear  of  marring  their  play.  Take  me 
with  you  down  the  Moselle.  Bind  on  my  skates,  brother ! " 

"The  storm-light  is  in  the  sky,  Dame  Hildegarde," 
protested  Olvir.  "  Is  it  wise  that  you  should  venture  be- 
yond sight  of  the  villa?  " 

"I  have  spoken,"  replied  Hildegarde,  with  unwonted 
sharpness.  "  Gerold,  lead  on  with  the  boys.  I  will  trust  to 
Liutrad's  arm." 

When  the  queen  spoke  in  such  a  tone,  even  Gerold 
could  not  venture  a  remonstrance.  He  lashed  the  skate- 
thongs  over  his  sister's  slender  buskins,  and  sprang  up, 
boar-spear  in  hand,  to  join  the  king's  sons.  The  boys  were 
circling  about,  wild  with  delight  at  the  thought  that  some 
stray  wolf  or  bear  might  give  them  opportunity  to  prove 
their  prowess  to  their  beloved  mother.  As  they  darted  off 
before  Gerold,  Hildegarde  rested  her  gloved  hand  lightly 
on  Liutrad's  massive  forearm  and  glided  out  beside  him 
with  the  graceful  stroke  of  a  practised  skater. 

304 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Olvir  slung  his  war-bow  with  its  full  quiver  upon  his 
back,  and  caught  up  Rothada's  hand,  to  follow  the  queen. 

"  All 's  well  with  our  gracious  dame,  dearest,"  he  said. 
"  She  skims  over  the  ice-street  with  the  ease  of  a  swallow's 
flight.  I  wager  she  can  cover  many  long  miles  without 
wearying." 

"  True,  dear  hero ;  and  already  I  see  the  bloom  creep- 
ing back  into  her  cheeks." 

"  As  it  has  crept  into  yours,  little  nun,  day  by  day,  since 
the  first  of  Yule.  The  cloister  pallor  is  all  but  gone.  Once 
more  you  are  the  vala  of  my  sea-wolves." 

"  Their  morning  greeting  still  roars  in  my  ears.  Yet 
they  are  heathen,  —  only  heathen!  How  beautiful  the 
world  is,  Olvir!" 

"To  those  whose  hearts  are  filled  with  beauty  and 
love,  dearest." 

Rothada's  fingers  tightened  in  the  firm  palm  of  her 
hero,  and  for  a  long  time  the  lovers  skimmed  over  the  ice 
in  happy  silence. 


20 


305 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Troll's  lore  and  witchcraft. 

VOLSUNGA  SAGA. 

S  the  little  party  shot  out  from 
among  the  other  skaters,  to 
sweep  away  down  the  river,  a 
shrivelled  old  man  crept  out  of 
an  alder  thicket  near  the  bank, 
and  called  to  a  passing  boy. 
The  sight  of  a  silver  penny  lent 
wings  to  the  lad's  feet,  and  he 
ran  nimbly  through  the  crowds 

^     on  the  snowy  field,  repeating  to 

himself  the  two  simple  words  which  he  was  to  whisper  in 
the  ear  of  Fastrada,  the  queen's  maiden.  Chance  favored 
him.  The  king  had  drawn  apart  with  Abbot  Fulrad,  and 
the  Franks  were  moving  across  the  meadow  to  see  the 
wrestling.  In  the  confusion,  the  boy  was  able  to  gain 
Fastrada's  side  and  tell  his  message,  unheeded  by  those 
around. 

With  all  her  years  of  court  training,  Fastrada  was 
unable  to  hide  her  vexation  when  the  boy  muttered  his 
two  words  in  her  ear.  She  stopped  short  and  stamped 
her  jewelled  buskin  deep  into  the  snow,  and  her  eyes 
blazed  with  angry  light.  Count  Amalwin,  who  chanced 
to  be  near,  inquired  with  uncouth  sympathy  what  might 
be  troubling  the  Grey  Wolfs  daughter.  But  Fastrada 
turned  from  him  without  answer,  to  hasten  after  Kosru's 
messenger. 

306 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  boy,  eager  to  finger  his  promised  reward,  reached 
the  alder  thicket  far  in  advance  of  the  queen's  maiden.  But 
Kosru  was  so  reluctant  to  part  with  a  single  penny  that  the 
boy  was  still  begging  for  his  due  when  Fastrada  came  up. 
Snatching  the  leech's  pouch,  she  pressed  not  one  but  four 
pennies  into  the  hand  of  the  astonished  boy,  and  told  him 
to  go  and  watch  the  Danish  slingers.  As  he  raced  off,  half 
mad  with  delight  at  his  treasure,  Fastrada  turned  upon  the 
Magian  with  a  look  that  made  him  cringe  to  the  snow. 

"  Dog !  "  she  hissed ;  "  you  've  let  the  Swabian  escape 
you!  Enough  of  your  false  promises!  This  very  day  I 
counted  on  for  triumph;  and  now  — " 

"Pardon!  grant  me  pardon,  maiden!  Have  I  not 
served  you  well  all  these  days?  Is  it  my  fault  that  the 
drug  loses  its  power  when  so  constantly  given?  I  am  aged 
and  weak.  Overcome  by  weariness,  I  slept  —  " 

"Where  is  she  now?" 

The  leech  rose  a  little  way,  and  thrust  out  a  crooked 
finger  from  his  robe. 

"  She  came  here  to  the  river-bank.  Hurrying  out  in 
search  of  her,  I  spied  her  in  the  midst  of  the  crowd.  But 
then  she  followed  after  Count  Olvir  to  this  place,  where 
the  king's  children  were  waiting  with  Count  Gerold  and 
Liutrad  the  Scribe." 

"  She  made  herself  known  to  them?  " 

"  But  to  none  other.  They  disputed  a  little,  and  then 
all  glided  away  down  the  river  on  the  ice-shoes.  The  war- 
riors carried  spear  and  bow,  as  though  they  went  to  the 
chase." 

"  The  king  himself  told  me  of  the  skating-party ;  only, 
one  is  gone  of  whom  he  is  not  aware.  A  lucky  going  for 
you,  Magian !  I  may  yet  have  time  to  win ;  she  forgets  all 
else  when  the  ice-blades  are  on  her  feet.  She  may  go  far 
before  turning.  Would  that  she  might  never  come  back! 

307 


A 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Ail  and  why  should  she?  In  the  bleak  forest  are  my 
mother's  fiends  and  many  hungry  mouths ! " 

The  girl  turned  panting  upon  the  leech,  her  eyes 
gleaming  green  between  the  narrowed  lids,  her  scarlet  lips 
drawn  back  from  the  strong  white  teeth  in  a  cruel  smile. 

"  Go !  "  she  cried.  "  Fetch  me  quickly  all  you  have  of 
that  drug  which  saved  you  from  the  wolf-pack  in  Fulda 
Wood." 

"  By  the  blessed  Sun,  maiden!  what  would  you  do?  " 
gasped  the  Magian. 

"  I  'd  win  for  myself  power  and  honors,  and  for  you, 
gold  without  stint,"  rejoined  Fastrada,  and  her  face  hard- 
ened to  a  still  more  cruel  look.  But  the  leech  no  longer 
faltered  and  cringed.  Before  his  greedy  eyes  glittered  a 
yellow  heap,  —  gold  without  stint!  gold  without  stint! 
Very  humbly  he  salaamed  to  the  witch's  daughter,  and 
then,  bending  to  her  gesture,  limped  away  on  his  unholy 
sending. 

An  hour  or  so  later,  Count  Hardrat,  chancing  to  pass 
along  the  river-bank,  suddenly  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  Fastrada.  It  was  his  first  sober  day  since  the  Christ- 
mas feast,  and  he  shrank  from  meeting  the  daughter  of 
Rudulf  after  his  relapse  into  drunkenness.  Greatly  to  his 
surprise,  she  greeted  him  not  only  without  reproach,  but 
even  smilingly,  and  he  readily  accepted  her  proposal  that 
they  skate  together  on  the  river.  The  girl's  skates  already 
swung  at  her  girdle,  and  for  balancing-staff  she  carried  a 
pretty  silver  and  ivory  dart,  with  flint  tip. 

Skates  were  soon  found  for  Hardrat,  and  the  couple 
darted  out  among  the  ice-skimmers.  As  they  swept  in  a 
long  loop  beyond  the  regular  racing-course,  Fastrada  drew 
her  companion's  attention  to  the  tracks  leading  down  the 
river,  and  dared  him  to  attempt  the  overtaking  of  the  party. 
Hardrat,  who  was  a  skilled  skater,  accepted  the  challenge 

308 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIS 


with  eagerness,  and  very  shortly  the  couple  were  f 
past  the  viking  settlement  and  around  the  first  bend  of  the 
river  into  the  black  borders  of  the  ancient  forest. 

For  two  leagues  and  more  the  Thuringian  count  and 
the  Thuringian  maiden  raced  side  by  side  at  utmost  speed, 
each  straining  with  every  nerve  and  muscle  to  outdo  the 
other.  At  last  the  man,  weakened  by  his  excesses  at  was- 
sail, began  to  lose  breath.  Heedless  of  his  growing  dis- 
tress, the  girl  drove  on,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  narrow  trail 
of  skate-marks  which  she  followed. 

"  Stay ! "  gasped  Hardrat  at  last,  as  they  swept  down 
upon  yet  another  bend  of  the  river.  "  Slack  —  your  pace, 
maiden !  I  can  —  go  —  no  farther !  " 

Fastrada  glanced  about,  frowning,  at  the  purple- 
blotched  face  of  her  mate;  but  suddenly  she  seemed  to 
slip,  and  a  cry  of  pain  burst  from  her  lips.  Leaning  with 
all  her  weight  upon  one  foot,  she  turned  sharply  and  glided 
inshore,  borne  on  by  the  momentum  of  her  swift  flight. 
Taken  by  surprise,  Hardrat  shot  past  for  half-a-dozen 
strokes.  Before  he  could  circle  about  and  rejoin  the  girl, 
she  had  limped  part  way  up  the  snow-covered  bank,  to 
lean  against  a  giant  oak.  As  Hardrat  scrambled  after  her, 
she  met  his  look  of  concern  with  a  rueful  face. 

"  Satan  spit  the  false  wood-minnes ! "  she  cried. 
"  They  Ve  wrought  me  ill,  —  my  ankle  is  wrenched." 

"  Holy  saints !   and  we  three  leagues  from  aid !  " 

"  Not  so ;  less  than  two.    The  hut  —  " 

«  —  if  she  still  lingers." 

"  Shelter,  anyway.  Yet  there  may  be  no  need.  Chaf- 
ing and  a  fire  might  ease  my  hurt." 

Hardrat's  bloodshot  eyes  lighted  dully. 

"  There  are  less  welcome  tasks  than  to  chafe  the  foot 
of  Rudulf's  daughter.  As  to  the  fire,  however,  I  carry 
neither  flint  nor  tinder." 


fcQOOOB 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Ah,  then,  yet  stay !  Here 's  the  tip  of  my  staff-spear, 
and  for  tinder,  my  kerchief,  whose  end  I  scorched  on  the 
coals  this  morning." 

"A  lucky  chance,"  muttered  Hardrat,  and  he  set  to 
gathering  twigs  and  dry  leaves  from  along  the  bank.  As 
he  bent  to  heap  the  fuel  together  for  lighting,  Fastrada 
crouched  upon  the  snow,  and  drew  from  her  bosom  a  large 
pouch,  whose  contents  gave  out  a  fetid  odor.  Laying  the 
pouch  openly  on  the  snow  beside  her,  she  stared  over  the 
broad  back  of  her  companion  into  the  depths  of  the  leafless 
forest,  and  her  face  darkened  with  the  fearful  look  that  had 
terrified  the  Magian. 

Having  piled  his  fuel,  Hardrat  drew  the  broad  knife 
which  swung  at  his  belt,  and  with  the  back  of  the  blade 
struck  a  shower  of  sparks  from  the  flint  spear- tip  into  the 
linen  kerchief.  Quickly  the  tinder  caught  the  sparks,  and 
a  few  puffs  set  the  smouldering  cloth  aflame.  Fanned  by  a 
light  breeze  from  up  the  river,  the  blaze  spread  with  a 
cheerful  snapping  through  the  heap  of  dead  limbs  and 
pieces  of  driftwood.  Hardrat  took  note  how  the  smoke, 
instead  of  rising,  drifted  away  between  the  tree-trunks  and 
over  the  ice,  like  morning  mist. 

"  See  how  the  smoke  lies  on  the  snow,"  he  said.  "  One 
needs  scant  knowledge  of  woodcraft  to  tell  that  a  storm  is 
near." 

"  Then  we  should  soon  be  hastening  back,"  replied 
Fastrada,  who,  instead  of  looking  at  the  ankle  which  he 
was  chafing,  was  staring  at  the  low-eddying  smoke  with 
fierce  exultance.  "Ail"  she  sighed  complainingly,  "that 
was  a  luckless  wrench !  Stay  your  hand,  though.  It  may 
chance  there  '11  be  no  need  to  chafe  the  hurt.  Am  I  not  my 
mother's  daughter?  Here  is  a  charm  stronger  than  the 
power  of  elf  or  nixie.  If,  in  truth,  my  hurt  is  the  work  of 
some  evil  wood-minne,  I  shall  soon  heal  it.  In  this  scrip 

310 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


is  a  drug  whose  burning  will  force  out  the  worst  of  fiends. 
Cast  it  into  the  midst  of  the  flames  while  I  speak  the  needed 
spell." 

Hardrat  drew  away,  his  cheeks  suddenly  gone  ashen. 

"  No!  by  all  the  saints,  no !  "  he  cried.  "  I  '11  have  no 
hand  in  your  witchery.  I  Ve  seen  enough  of  black  spells  in 
her  hut." 

"  Hero !  "  jeered  Fastrada ;  and  with  her  own  hand  she 
lifted  the  pouch,  to  scatter  half  its  contents  around  her  in 
the  snow.  As  she  threw  the  rest  into  the  flames,  her  red 
lips  muttered  soft  hissing  words  of  the  Wendish  tongue, 
and  her  beautiful  face  was  distorted  with  a  look  that  sent  a 
shudder  of  superstitious  fear  through  Hardrat's  thick-set 
frame.  The  pungent  odor  sent  out  by  the  burning  drug 
added  yet  more  to  his  terror.  He  stood  cowering  beside 
the  fire,  unable  to  fly,  his  bloated  cheeks  grey  and  mottled, 
and  his  limbs  trembling  visibly,  as  he  watched  the  look  of 
awful  expectancy  that  crept  into  the  face  of  the  witch's 
daughter. 

Moment  after  moment,  the  girl  sat  staring  out  after 
the  drifting  smoke-wreaths,  her  lips  softly  muttering  the 
sibilant  Wend  words.  Though  Karl  himself  had  marked 
the  Thuringian's  boldness  on  the  battlefield,  the  man  was 
now  like  a  frightened  child  in  the  dark.  The  strain  was 
almost  more  than  he  could  bear.  His  tow-white  hair 
bristled  beneath  his  cap;  his  very  blood  was  curdling  in 
his  veins.  He  was  on  the  point  of  crying  aloud  when  the 
silence  was  broken  by  the  lone  howl  of  a  wolf.  Wild  with 
terror,  Hardrat  sprang,  about  to  fly.  But  Fastrada  leaped 
up  as  he  passed  and  caught  him  by  the  shoulder.  Her  eyes 
gleamed  with  fierce  joy. 

"Het!"  she  cried.  "The  fiend-gods  are  with  us! 
Down  the  wind  with  the  smoke  the  evil  sprite  has  passed, 
and  my  hurt  is  heakd!  my  hurt  is  healed! 

3" 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Saints  shield  me ! "  stammered  Hardrat,  and  he 
crossed  himself.  That  the  girl  should  scramble  with  him 
down  the  bank  and  out  across  the  rough  ice-edge  without 
a  trace  of  her  sprain,  by  no  means  tended  to  lessen  his 
dread. 

When  they  gained  the  smooth  ice,  Fastrada  would 
have  paused;  but  Hardrat  struck  out  at  once  in  the  face 
of  the  freshening  breeze,  feverishly  eager  to  put  the  long 
leagues  between  him  and  the  fumes  of  the  magic  drug.  As 
Fastrada  darted  to  his  side,  and  they  swept  away  over  the 
level  ice,  they  heard  once  more,  far  back  in  the  forest  be- 
hind them,  that  long-drawn,  dismal  howl;  and  this  time 
the  cry  was  caught  up  and  repeated  from  the  farther  depths 
of  the  forest. 

"Holy  Mother!"  gasped  Hardrat.  "Your  spell  has 
roused  the  werwolves  from  their  lairs ! " 

Fastrada  only  smiled,  and  lengthened  her  stroke  to 
meet  the  frantic  rush  of  her  companion. 

Presently  a  bend  of  the  river  brought  the  wind  into  a 
more  favorable  quarter,  and  the  couple  raced  homeward  up 
the  ice-street  yet  more  swiftly  than  they  had  come.  For  a 
while  they  could  hear  howls  in  the  forest  depths;  but  as 
the  leagues  melted  away  beneath  their  skate-strokes,  the 
dreadful  sounds  died  out  in  the  distance. 

Still  Hardrat  kept  on,  spurred  by  mad  terror ;  nor 
would  he  slacken  the  pace  until  they  swept  into  full  view 
of  the  viking  settlement.  At  sight  of  the  steep-roofed 
buildings  and  the  shouting  merrymakers  in  the  meadows 
beyond,  he  uttered  a  hoarse  cry,  and  ceased  his  frantic 
strokes.  Borne  on  by  his  momentum,  he  glided  forward 
until  opposite  the  viking  hall.  Then,  utterly  spent,  he  sank 
down  upon  the  ice,  wheezing  as  though  he  would  choke. 

Fastrada  circled  about  and  came  to  a  stand  beside  the 
over-wearied  man,  eying  him  with  cold  indifference.  When 

312 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

he  had  gained  breath  a  little  and  could  listen,  she  bent  for- 
ward and  said  significantly :  "  Let  there  be  no  talk  of  this 
skating,  friend  Hardrat." 

"Trust  me  for  that,  witch-daughter!  I'll  drown  the 
memory  at  the  cask's  bottom ! " 

"  It  is  well  that  your  tongue  does  not  wag  with  the 
wine.  Here 's  gold  for  your  wassail-fee,"  replied  Fastrada, 
and,  flinging  a  coin  to  him,  she  glided  on  up  the  river. 


CHAPTER  IX 

Unto  all  bale 

And  all  hate  whetted. 

LAY  OF  BRYNHILD 

N  the  centre  of  the  skating- 
course  the  girl  threw  back  her 
hood  and  gazed  about  at  the 
circling  skaters.  Being  now 
easily  recognized,  she  at  once 
became  a  focus  of  attraction  for 
the  younger  Franks,  who  darted 
forward  from  all  sides  to  offer 
themselves  as  partners.  But  the 
fgirl  stood  coyly  in  their  midst, 
seemingly  undecided  whom  to  choose.  She  had  spied  the 
king  sweeping  out  from  the  bank,  and  so  contrived  that 
when  he  wheeled  past  the  cluster  of  eager  suitors  he  caught 
her  gaze  fixed  upon  him  in  a  look  of  tender  longing.  In- 
stantly his  eyes  kindled,  and,  driving  in  among  the  young 
warriors,  he  bore  off  the  prize  from  their  midst. 

With  the  girl's  arm  locked  fast  in  his  powerful  clasp, 
Karl  swept  her  along  at  whirlwind  speed,  his  skates  ring- 
ing loudly  on  the  ice  with  the  force  of  his  strokes.  His  face 
glowed  with  the  fierce  delight  of  the  captor,  and  the  half- 
frightened,  half-pleased  look  of  his  lovely  captive  sent  the 
hot  blood  leaping  through  his  veins. 

Unresisting  but  unassisting,  Fastrada  clung  to  his  sup- 
porting arm  while  he  bore  her  around  the  skating-course  at 
a  speed  no  other  skater  born  in  Frank  Land  might  have 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

hoped  to  equal.  As  he  swept  back  through  the  thick  of  the 
shouting  onlookers,  he  wheeled,  seized  by  some  fresh  im- 
pulse, and  drove  away  down  the  river,  with  no  slackening 
in  his  headlong  rush. 

The  Franks  discreetly  refrained  from  following  their 
king ;  and  Floki  the  Crane,  who  alone  of  those  present  could 
have  overtaken  the  flying  couple,  headed  back  such  of  the 
younger  Northmen  as  chose  to  consider  the  manner  of  the 
king's  leaving  a  challenge  to  race. 

So,  followed  neither  by  Frank  nor  viking,  Karl  drove 
on  with  his  fair  prize  into  the  forest.  As  the  gnarled  trunks 
of  the  giant  oaks  shut  out  from  view  the  last  glimpse  of 
field  and  dwelling,  Fastrada's  downcast  eyes  shone  with 
sapphire  tints,  and  though  far  from  wearied  by  her  mad 
race  with  Hardrat,  she  leaned  more  heavily  upon  the  arm 
of  the  king. 

A  little  later,  the  two  were  standing  face  to  face  in  the 
centre  of  the  river,  a  league  beyond  the  viking  camp.  Karl 
was  staring  at  the  maiden  with  a  bewildered  look  as  he 
listened  to  her  pleading  words :  "  Ah,  stay,  my  lord  I  You 
break  my  heart  I  I  thought  —  I  thought  you  'd  take  me  to 
wife." 

Karl  smiled,  half  incredulously. 

"  Howthen,  silly  maiden,"  he  said ;  "  have  you  forgot- 
ten who  sits  beside  me  on  the  throne?  " 

Fastrada's  drooping  eyelids  quivered,  and  her  face 
whitened;  but  she  betrayed  no  sign  of  anger  or  jealousy. 

"  I  Ve  not  forgotten,  dear  lord,"  she  whispered.  "  Yet 
I  thought  —  I  Ve  heard  of  kingly  rights.  Is  there  —  was 
there  not  a  custom  that  the  king  might  take  to  himself  two 
wives?  " 

"  By  my  sword,  fair  one,  you  'd  make  a  Merwing  of 
me!  Is  it  not  enough  that  you  have  won  my  love?" 

"  No,  sire,  no !    It  is  not  enough  for  me !  "  cried  the  girl. 


! 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Then  what  would  you  have?  "  asked  Karl,  wonder- 
ingly. 

Before  she  answered,  the  girl  raised  her  eyes  to  his, 
and  flung  out  her  arms. 

"  Ah,  how  I  love  you,  dear  lord !  "  she  half  whispered. 
"  But  you  forgo  your  ancient  right,  —  you  '11  not  seat  two 
with  you  on  your  throne.  I  see  only  one  way  that  joy  may 
come  to  me,  —  ay,  and  why  not?  Why  should  not  I  have 
my  turn?  " 

"  How  then?  "  demanded  Karl.    "  Speak  out." 

"  Ah,  dear  lord,  do  not  be  harsh !  It  is  my  love  that 
forces  my  lips  to  speak,  and  so  —  and  so  —  I  will  say  it, 
though  it  kill  me!  Dear  lord,  if  you  will  not  make  me 
joint  sharer  of  your  throne  with  the  one  who  now  sits  be- 
side you,  I  would  —  I  would  that  she  might  give  place  to 
me,  —  as  the  Lombard's  daughter  gave  way  to  her  —  as 
Himiltrude  gave  way  to  the  princess  —  " 

"  Ha! "  cried  Karl.  He  drew  back  a  step,  and  stood 
staring  at  her,  overcome  with  amazement  at  her  audacity. 

For  a  moment  the  girl  straightened  before  his  angry 
wonder  with  a  gesture  almost  of  defiance.  But  then  her 
eyes  sank,  and  her  whole  body  drooped  forward. 

"  Pardon  me,  dear  sire !  "  she  pleaded  faintly.  "  For- 
give the  love  which  carried  me  beyond  reason.  I  could  not 
stay  my  tongue,  dear  lord.  I  was  mad ! " 

Softened  by  the  girl's  words  and  timid  look,  Karl  re- 
laxed his  frown. 

"  Daughter  of  Rudulf,"  he  said,  "  it  is  I  who  am  at 
fault.  You  are  far  other  than  I  thought,  —  I  own  it  with 
shame!  Here,  then,  is  an  end;  for  as  to  your  foolish 
dream,  that  may  never  be.  No  woman  lives  who  can 
thrust  from  my  heart  the  daughter  of  Childebrand." 

" Then  all  is  over,  dear  lord;  I  may  not  hope? " 

"  All  is  over,  maiden." 

316 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

For  a  while  the  girl  stood  silent,  one  of  her  skate- 
runners  tapping  gently  on  the  ice.  But  then,  forcing  as  it 
were  the  words  from  her  lips,  she  murmured  hurriedly: 
"  Your  Majesty,  is  it  not  best  I  should  be  returning?  " 

"  Not  you  alone,  maiden !  Whoever 's  afield  should  be 
seeking  shelter.  Already  the  oak-tops  moan  with  the  com- 
ing storm.  But  fear  nothing.  We  shall  soon  be  warming 
our  knees  by  the  cheery  hall-fire." 

"  But  how,  sire,  of  those  who  —  Ah,  Holy  Mother 
forgive  me!  I  forgot;  in  my  love  and  joy,  I  forgot! 
Kosru  the  leech —  Oh,  hasten,  sire!  The  lads  and  Ro- 
thada,  —  they  are  on  the  river,  and  with  them  our  gracious 
dame!" 

"Hildegarde!  "  roared  Karl,  in  angry  alarm. 

"  The  queen,"  echoed  Fastrada,  and  she  shrank  back 
in  real  fear  of  the  king's  threatening  gesture.  But  he  ad- 
vanced, only  to  motion  her  up  the  river. 

"  To  the  villa !  "  he  commanded.  "Tell  the  Danes  their 
vala  is  in  peril!  Bid  the  counts  join  with  them!  I  go  to 
meet  the  skaters." 

With  the  words,  Karl  wheeled  past  the  cowering  girl, 
and  drove  away  down  the  river  at  headlong  speed. 

Instantly  Fastrada  sprang  erect  and  glared  after  him. 

"Hai!"  she  hissed.  "Let  him  go;  let  him  rush  to 
share  the  fate  of  the  others !  The  hungry  fangs  await  him ! 
Merry  's  the  feast  I  've  set  for  Odin's  dogs !  —  king's  kin 
and  king ;  ay,  and  my  false  hero !  All 's  merry  in  the 
bleak  wood!  Hark  to  the  moaning  oaks!  My  mother's 
spell  has  roused  the  storm-fiends,  —  the  sky  darkens.  Soon 
the  gnawed  bones  will  lie  wrapped  in  a  snowy  shroud! 
And  now  I  shall  go  to  her.  She  shall  unriddle  that  old 
foretelling,  —  *  a  king,  grey  of  eye.'  The  Merwing  Wolf 
rode  the  tree ;  Pepin's  son  rushes  to  meet  his  bane ;  who, 
then,  may  it  be?  Adelchis  the  Lombard,  idling  in  the 

317 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Kaiser's  hall,  or  that  drunken  Hardrat?  More  likely  he, 
—  the  white-bristled  boar!  I  had  thought  to  crush  him 
when  the  time  came ;  but  now  —  Ah,  would  that  Pepin's 
son  had  lent  a  willing  ear!  He  at  least  was  a  world-hero, 
with  whom  might  be  named  no  warrior  other  than  my  sea- 
king.  And  now  they  are  death-doomed.  Ail  my  bright 
hero  bleeds!  Olvir!  Oh,  Olvir!" 

Writhing  in  tearless  anguish,  the  girl  stumbled  to  the 
river's  edge.  With  feverish  haste  she  tore  loose  the  skate- 
thongs  from  her  buskins,  and,  leaping  up  the  bank,  Red 
wildly  into  the  heart  of  the  forest. 


I 


CHAPTER  X 

Thou  shalt  hear  the  wolves  howling. 

LAY  OF  GUDRUN. 


[EN    the    little    party,    whose 
leader  he  had  considered  him- 
self, glided  away  into  the  forest, 
Olvir  had  thought  to  limit  the 
trip  to  three  leagues  at  the  ut- 
lost.    But  he  failed  to  consider 
ic  queen's  humor. 

After  her  long  confinement 
rithin  the  bower,  Hildegarde's 
'fair  face  glowed  with  almost 
feverish  delight  as  she  felt  the  ice  glide  away  beneath  her 
feet,  and  she  swayed  her  body  to  the  skate-stroke  with  the 
grace  of  a  Greek  dancer.  Upborne  by  Liutrad's  powerful 
grasp,  she  soon  lost  all  thought  of  fatigue  and  distance, 
and  floated  on  —  on  —  through  the  white  sunlight,  her  face 
serene  with  dreamy  contentment.  Her  enjoyment  was  at 
its  height  when  Olvir,  hand  in  hand  with  Rothada,  glided 
up  beside  her,  a  troubled  look  in  his  dark  eyes. 

"Stay,  Dame  Hildegarde,"  he  called  out.  "I  beg 
you  to  turn  back  before  it  is  too  late.  The  storm-light 
is  boding,  and  we  're  already  too  far  from  hearth  and 
roof-tree." 

Hildegarde  threw  out  her  hand  in  a  gesture  of  vexation 
very  unlike  her  usual  gentle  bearing. 

"  Leave  croaking  to  the  ravens !  "  she  cried.  "  How 
soon  will  your  storm  sweep  upon  us?  " 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  That  I  cannot  say,  dear  dame.  I  know  nothing  of 
your  Rhineland." 

"I  might  guess,"  said  Liutrad,  in  response  to  the 
queen's  glance.  "  Yet  why  not  ask  Gerold?  None  should 
know  better  than  he." 

"  Brother ! "  called  Hildegarde ;  and  when  the  young 
Swabian  came  circling  back  to  her  side,  she  pointed  sky- 
wards. "It  seems  that  our  Norse  hero  is  fearful  of  the 
storm-boding.  He  would  have  it  that  we  wander  too  far 
afield." 

"Ah,  Olvir;  so  you  still  fret  at  the  storm-light," 
laughed  Gerold,  and  he  cast  a  careless  glance  at  the  sky. 

"  In  old  Norway  such  a  boding  would  bring  the  wind 
howling  about  our  ears  within  an  hour,"  rejoined  Olvir. 

"  Here  it  will  come  with  the  sundown,"  said  Gerold. 
"There  is  yet  no  moaning  in  the  oak-tops." 

"  Enough ! "  cried  his  sister.  "  Rejoin  the  lads.  We  11 
fare  on." 

Though  far  from  satisfied,  Olvir  made  no  further  pro- 
test. Saluting  the  queen,  he  at  once  fell  back  with  Rothada 
to  their  former  position  in  the  rear.  Surely  Gerold  should 
know.  If  he  gave  assurance  of  safety,  why  need  an  out- 
lander  doubt?  And  it  was  very  pleasant  to  glide  on  into 
the  forest  depths,  side  by  side  with  the  little  vala.  Having 
done  his  part,  he  could  now  put  away  all  thought  of  mis- 
hap, and  give  himself  over  to  joy. 

Constant  practice  with  Olvir  through  all  the  happy 
days  of  Yule  had  gained  for  Rothada  a  skate-stroke  which 
in  lightness  and  grace  all  but  equalled  that  of  Hildegarde 
herself.  With  the  light  staff-spear  balanced  in  her  left 
hand,  and  scarf  and  cloak  floating  back  from  her  shoulders, 
the  king's  daughter  skimmed  over  the  ice-street  with  all  the 
airy  freedom  of  a  bird.  But  for  the  glint  of  the  upcurving 
skate-runners  as  her  slender  foot  peeped  from  beneath  her 
320 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

skirt,  Olvir  might  well  have  fancied  that  her  flight  was 
winged.  Life  and  love  had  driven  the  last  trace  of  cloister 
pallor  from  her  rounding  cheeks,  and  beamed  from  her  eyes 
with  the  tender  radiance  of  perfect  trust  and  joy. 

The  loveliness  of  his  princess  set  every  fibre  of  Olvir's 
being  atingle  with  rapture.  His  black  eyes  gazed  down 
adoringly  upon  her  lissome  body  and  dainty  foot;  upon 
the  glossy  braids  which  lay  entwined  with  bright  ribbons 
down  her  heaving  bosom;  upon  the  flower-like  face  be- 
neath its  jewelled  cap ;  most  of  all,  upon  the  soft  eyes,  half- 
veiled  by  the  tresses  wind-blown  across  the  white  forehead. 

Mile  after  mile,  the  forest  glided  past  in  an  endless 
maze  of  gnarled  trunks  and  leafless  branches ;  but,  like  the 
queen,  the  lovers  were  lost  to  all  sense  of  time  and  dis- 
tance. Gradually  the  space  between  them  had  lessened. 
Now  Rothada's  hand  was  upon  Olvir's  shoulder;  his  arm 
was  clasped  about  her  waist,  and  he  was  softly  chanting  to 
her  of  the  fells  and  fiords,  of  the  salmon  leaping  in  the  tor- 
rents, and  the  crimson  glow  of  the  midnight  sun. 

When  at  last  Hildegarde  gave  the  word  to  turn,  the 
lovers  halted  with  the  others,  and  stood  before  them  with- 
out altering  their  pose.  Neither  would  have  become  aware 
of  Hildegarde's  look  of  surprise  or  of  Liutrad's  and  Gerold's 
smiles,  had  not  young  Karl  cried  out  in  boyish  glee :  "  See, 
mother,  Rothada  and  Count  Olvir!  Sister  will  wed  our 
lord  father's  bright  Dane  hawk,  and  he  '11  never  fly  away 
to  his  frost-white  eyry." 

"  The  dear  Christ  grant  that  such  may  be  the  outcome, 
child,"  replied  Hildegarde;  and  she  gazed,  with  a  tender 
smile,  at  Rothada's  downbent  head.  "  Now  that  your  sister 
gives  proof  of  her  love,  all  should  go  well.  Count  Olvir  has 
only  to  accept  baptism." 

"  Baptism,  dear  dame !  Should  you  not  rather  say,  the 
yoke  of  priestly  rule? 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Olvir,  Olvir !  put  aside  your  stubborn  pride !  You 
little  know  how  hard  it  is  for  our  lord  to  give  his  sweet 
maiden  into  another's  keeping.  If,  then,  he  holds  you  in 
such  friendship,  should  you  not  be  willing  to  bend  to 
Christ?" 

"  That  I  already  do,  Dame  Hildegarde,"  replied  Olvir, 
gravely.  "  But  let  us  spare  ourselves  now.  We  are  afield, 
and  should  give  ourselves  over  to  joy." 

"  Lord  Olvir  speaks  well,  mother,"  exclaimed  Pepin, 
flourishing  his  javelin.  "  Lead  on  again !  We  may  yet 
chance  upon  an  elk  or  bear." 

"  No,  sister ;  about  and  homeward !  "  cried  Gerold,  in 
sudden  alarm.  "  Hear  the  moaning  in  the  oak-tops !  How 
can  I  ever  forgive  myself?  The  storm 's  upon  us,  and  we 
so  far  from  shelter !  " 

"I  alone  am  at  fault,"  said  Hildegarde.  "Had  I 
given  heed  to  Olvir's  warning,  by  now  we  should  have 
been  within  sight  of  home.  Lend  your  aid  to  the  lads, 
brother.  If  you  tire,  Liutrad  will  take  your  place." 

"  Beside  me,  lads !  "  cried  Gerold,  impatiently. 

The  boys  darted  in  to  grasp  the  ends  of  the  Swabian's 
crossed  spear,  and  with  a  shout  all  three  struck  out  on  the 
homeward  race.  After  them  glided  Hildegarde  and  Liu- 
trad  with  long,  easy  strokes,  while  Olvir,  his  arm  still 
clasped  about  his  little  princess,  swept  her  along  in  the 
wake  of  the  others  like  a  cluster  of  thistledown  upborne 
by  the  breeze. 

Spurred  on  by  his  alarm,  Gerold  steadily  increased  the 
pace,  until  the  air  whistled  in  the  ears  of  the  skaters,  and 
the  long  miles  melted  away  beneath  their  flashing  ice- 
blades  in  swift  succession.  Few  skaters,  however,  could 
long  sustain  so  rapid  a  stroke,  and  Gerold  at  last  found 
that  he  had  overestimated  his  strength.  Unhampered, 
he  might  have  held  on  without  slackening  to  the  very 
322 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


end  of  the  course;  but  his  strength  and  training  were 
now  offset  by  the  weight  of  the  two  boys.  Little  more 
than  half  the  homeward  course  had  been  covered  when 
his  strokes  began  to  flag,  and  he  found  himself  compelled 
to  ease  the  pace.  Liutrad  was  quick  to  heed  his  friend's 
distress. 

"  Ho,  gossip  !  "  he  called  ;  "  you  're  all  but  winded. 
Leave  Pepin  to  me,  and  fall  behind.  I  '11  lead  for  a 
while." 

"  Lead,  then  !  I  must  give  way,"  panted  Gerold,  and 
reluctantly  he  slackened  speed  for  the  Northman  to  pass. 
At  the  moment,  however,  Pepin  uttered  a  wild  view-halloo, 
and  dashed  aside  toward  the  river-bank,  followed  hotly  by 
young  Karl. 

"A  wolf!"  sang  out  Liutrad,  at  sight  of  the  gaunt 
black  beast  bounding  silently  along  the  bank  among  the 
alders. 

"  Ho  !  see  the  cowardly  brute  make  off  !  "  shouted 
Gerold,  as  the  wolf  leaped  away  into  the  forest. 

"  Cowardly?  "  repeated  Hildegarde.  "  It  seems  to  me 
very  bold  of  the  lone  beast  to  follow  an  armed  party  in 
midday." 

"  Greyleg  fares  ill  in  the  winter  woods,"  answered 
Liutrad,  in  a  careless  tone,  and  he  beckoned  to  the  dis- 
appointed young  hunters.  "  Hasten,  lads  !  If  we  find 
ourselves  within  a  league  of  the  villa  before  the  storm 
bursts,  we  shall  be  doing  well." 

"  God  grant  no  worse  befall  us  !  "  muttered  Olvir, 
half  aloud,  and  as  the  boys  circled  back  to  their  new  places 
in  the  party,  he  drew  his  war-bow  from  its  case  and  strung 
it,  ready  for  instant  use.  But  at  Rothada's  startled  look,  he 
smiled,  and  said  lightly  :  "  Now  I  dare  Greyleg  to  peer  out 
the  second  time.  He  shall  find  his  bane  without  waiting 
for  the  spears  of  bairns." 

323 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  He  will  do  well  to  overtake  us  again,  Olvir,  now  that 
Liutrad  leads," 

"  True,  dear  heart.  Few  even  in  the  North  can  out- 
ride Liutrad  on  the  ice-steeds,  and  his  bigness  breaks  the 
wind  for  those  of  us  who  follow.  Lean  more  to  the  stroke, 
dear  one,  and  waste  no  breath  in  words." 

Obediently  Rothada  bent  forward  on  his  supporting 
arm,  while  Olvir,  freed  from  her  inquiring  gaze,  searched 
the  river-banks  with  his  glance,  and  turned  his  head  as 
though  straining  to  catch  the  first  note  of  some  distant 
cry.  He  had  not  long  to  wait. 

So  faint  that  at  first  even  the  listening  ear  could 
scarcely  tell  it  from  the  moaning  of  the  oak  boughs,  down 
the  wind  came  floating  that  most  dismal  of  all  sounds,  — 
the  long-drawn  howl  of  a  wolf.  Olvir's  face  grew  tense, 
and  his  grip  on  the  war-bow  tightened  as  he  glanced  down 
at  Rothada.  But  he  held  on  after  the  others,  without  a 
word,  though  howl  after  howl  was  borne  to  his  ears  by 
the  freshening  breeze. 


CHAPTER  XI 


—  Oft  Wyrd  preserveth 
Undoomed  earl  —  if  he  doughty  be. 

BEOWULF. 


T  first  none  other  than  Olvir 
gave  heed  to  the  dreary  cry  ;  for 
now  the  storm's  forerunners 
came  soughing  through  the  leaf- 
less  treetops.  A  half-mile,  how- 


S    W 

£       fl 

»""  ever,  and  the  howls  had  merged 

|       Jl  into   one   continuous   note  that 

^Wrose  and  fell  on  the  breeze  like 
the  wail  of  fiends  in  torment. 
wEven  Rothada's  untrained  ear 
caught  the  appalling  sound  as  it  swelled  out  with  a  sud- 
den flaw  of  the  wind.  The  girl  cowered  and  pressed 
closer  to  her  companion.  Nor  was  she  alone  in  her 
fear.  With  all  their  boyish  pride,  her  brothers  cried 
out  in  dread,  and  Gerold  turned  as  pale  as  his  sister. 
Liutrad  slackened  speed,  and  looked  instinctively  to 
Olvir. 

"Hearken,  earl!"  he  called.  "The  wolf-pack  is  be- 
fore us!  Should  we  not  turn  back?" 

"Heal"  shouted  Gerold;  "turn  —  turn  and  fly  while 
there  's  yet  time  !  " 

"  Where?  "  rejoined  Olvir,  —  "  to  perish  in  the  forest? 
The  storm  lowers.  Our  only  hope  is  ahead.  Let  us  only 
sweep  by  the  pack,  and  we  may  yet  gain  safety.  At  the 
worst,  we  can  mount  an  oak  till  Floki  brings  aid.  Lead  on, 

325 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

son  of  Erling !  Already  we  glide  through  the  midst  of  the 
horde.  Look  back!" 

A  cry  of  terror  burst  from  all  others  than  Liutrad  as 
they  stared  back  over  their  shoulders.  From  the  point  of 
the  last  bend,  not  a  hundred  paces  behind  them,  a  dozen 
gaunt  beasts  were  breaking  cover  to  leap  out  upon  the  ice. 
Even  as  the  skaters  looked  about,  other  bands  of  the  silent 
pursuers  sprang  into  the  open  from  either  bank,  and  a  dry 
snapping  in  the  alders  drew  the  eye  to  half-hidden  forms 
flitting  through  the  thickets  abreast  of  the  party. 

Suddenly  a  huge  grey  wolf  leaped  out  from  the  left 
bank,  several  yards  in  the  lead  of  the  skaters.  The  beast 
made  no  attempt  to  attack  the  quarry.  Hardly  even  did  he 
look  at  them,  but  bounded  along  on  the  ice-edge,  whining 
like  a  young  dog.  The  strange  actions  of  the  beast,  coupled 
with  the  silence  of  the  gathering  pack,  struck  Liutrad's 
stout  heart  with  a  fear  little  less  intense  than  that  of  his 
companions. 

"  Tyr !  the  beasts  are  upon  us ! "  he  shouted,  and,  grip- 
ping Hildegarde  and  Pepin  fast  in  his  giant  grasp,  he  bent 
far  over  and  drove  into  the  teeth  of  the  freshening  wind  at 
racing  speed.  At  his  heels  followed  Gerold  with  young 
Karl,  keen  to  hold  the  vantage  of  the  wind-break  offered 
by  the  great  body  of  the  Northman. 

Olvir,  however,  did  not  join  in  the  mad  rush.  With  a 
word  of  assurance  to  Rothada,  he  freed  his  hold  of  her  and 
plucked  an  arrow  from  his  quiver.  With  the  twang  of  the 
bow  the  grey  leader  of  the  wolf-pack  uttered  a  yell  and 
leaped  high  in  the  air,  pierced  through  and  through  by  the 
Norse  arrow.  Even  as  the  beast  fell  dying,  Olvir  was  back 
at  Rothada's  side,  and  his  arm  linked  in  hers  with  a  grip  of 
steel. 

"  Ho,  dear  heart ! "  he  cried  cheerily ;  "  now"  will  Odin's 
dogs  whet  their  fangs  on  the  bones  of  their  leader,  while  we 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

race  away  up  the  ice-street.   Bend  now  —  yet  farther !    The 
others  outstrip  us." 

"  Christ  save  us ! "  gasped  Rothada,  despairingly. 

Olvir's  face  contracted  with  a  pang  of  keenest  anguish ; 
but  his  voice  rang  out  almost  gaily :  "  How  now,  king's 
daughter;  where  is  your  trust?  No  wolf  should  overtake 
us  though  we  had  ten  leagues  to  cover." 

"  I  trust  my  hero ! "  replied  the  girl,  and  the  words 
gave  added  force  to  the  Northman's  swift  strokes.  But  as 
he  whirled  his  precious  charge  away  from  the  silent  pur- 
suers, the  dismal  howling  in  the  forest  ahead  swelled  out 
with  fearful  distinctness. 

Louder  and  yet  louder  resounded  the  yelling  chorus, 
until  the  air  quivered  with  the  hideous  din,  and  even 
Liutrad  faltered,  half  fearing  to  advance.  But  then 
Olvir  shot  forward  in  the  lead,  and  his  call  rang  out 
bold  and  clear :  "  On !  on,  wolf-racers !  We  outstrip  the 
chase !  At  yonder  bend  we  '11  know  the  worst,  —  beyond 
is  the  howling  pack.  If  we  cannot  pass,  turn  in  to  the 
cleft  oak  on  the  point.  Its  boughs  will  house  us  safe 
from  Greyleg." 

"  We  follow,  ring-breaker ! "  shouted  Liutrad,  and  all 
dashed  on  at  racing  speed,  their  hearts  leaping  with  re- 
newed hope.  Every  stroke  left  the  grim  pursuers  farther 
to  the  rear. 

But  now  they  were  sweeping  around  the  river's  bend, 
and  the  outcry  before  them  rose  to  a  deafening  clamor. 
Dreadful,as  was  the  sound,  it  yet  failed  to  prepare  them  for 
the  scene  that  burst  upon  their  startled  gaze.  Even  Olvir's 
face  whitened,  and  his  lips  moved  in  quick  prayer.  A  little 
•way  beyond  the  bend,  the  river's  bank  and  the  ice-edge  was 
black  with  a  dense  mass  of  wolves,  yelling  and  fighting  and 
tearing  at  the  snow  in  mad  frenzy. 

"  God  save  us !  they  're  werwolves !  "  cried  Gerold. 
327 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Hildegarde  turned  her  despairing  gaze  about  till  it 
rested  on  young  Karl. 

"To  the  oak!  to  the  oak,  brother!"  she  screamed. 
"Save  my  boy!" 

But  Olvir  pointed  ahead  with  a  forceful  gesture: 
"Hold,  fools!  Follow  me  on!  We'll  dash  by  the  mad 
fiends.  Beyond  is  safety!" 

Again  the  sea-king's  words  brought  hope  to  his  com- 
panions. Swifter  than  ever  their  skate-blades  spurned  the 
glassy  surface,  and  they  swept  on  around  the  bend  at  their 
utmost  speed. 

Such  was  the  frenzy  of  the  wolves  in  their  weird 
saturnalia  that  at  first  they  failed  to  heed  the  swiftly 
approaching  skaters.  But  as  the  fugitives  came  flying 
past,  the  young  wolves  on  the  edge  of  the  pack  sighted 
the  quarry,  and  yelled  out  the  view-cry.  Another  moment, 
and  the  whole  pack  was  swarming  down  the  bank  and  out 
upon  the  ice,  to  head  off  the  quarry. 

So  swiftly,  however,  were  the  skaters  skimming  past 
that  all  but  a  few  of  the  foremost  wolves  were  hopelessly 
outdistanced.  Only  a  dozen  or  so  of  those  farthest  up- 
stream succeeded  in  coming  near  the  fugitives,  and  even  of 
these  the  leader  alone  came  within  fair  distance  for  the 
quarry  leap.  With  a  yell,  the  beast  crouched,  and  flung 
himself  at  Hildegarde;  but  at  the  same  instant  Liutrad 
swerved  aside  with  his  charges,  and  Gerold,  driving  along 
a  few  paces  behind  the  Northman,  straightened  up  and 
cast  his  heavy  boar-spear  through  the  body  of  the  leaping 
beast. 

In  a  twinkling  the  Swabian  had  whirled  young  Karl 
past  the  writhing,  snarling  brute,  and  all  were  echoing  the 
boy's  shrill  cry  of  triumph.  Though  the  wolf-pack  yelled 
at  their  very  heels,  every  hungry  fang  was  now  behind 
them. 

328 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"God  be  praised!"  gasped  Hildegarde.  "The  worst 
is  past." 

"  We  go  free !  "  echoed  Gerold,  panting  yet  joyful ;  "  we 
go  free,  out  of  their  very  jaws!  Let  the  cheated  fiends 
follow  in  their  place !  " 

But  Olvir  was  silent,  and  his  glance  shifted  uneasily 
from  the  horde  of  yelling  pursuers  to  the  maiden  at  his 
side.  There  was  little  exultation  in  his  tense  white  face. 
One  peril  had  been  passed,  but  another  now  threatened. 
Rothada  was  gasping  for  breath.  Notwithstanding  his  aid, 
she  was  almost  outdone.  Her  strokes  faltered,  and  Olvir 
could  feel  the  wild  throbbing  of  her  heart.  Though  she 
made  no  complaint,  he  saw  that  the  strain  was  more  than 
she  could  bear.  His  despairing  gaze  glanced  from  the  oak- 
tops  to  the  lowering  sky. 

"  Not  that !  not  that !  "  he  muttered.  "  Already  the 
storm  is  upon  us.  She  would  perish  of  cold  on  the  shel- 
terless boughs  before  Floki  comes.  By  Thor,  we  hold 
our  own  with  the  wood-fiends!  Could  we  keep  to  the 
pace  a  little  longer —  Yet  I  cannot  bear  her  up 
alone!" 

"Ah,  Olvir!"  gasped  Rothada,  "my  strength  fails; 
I  can  go  no  farther.  Loose  me;  loose  me,  and  save  the 
others,  dearest !  I  but  drag  you  back  —  to  death !  " 

Olvir  gazed  down  upon  the  girl,  his  dark  eyes  misty 
with  infinite  love  and  tenderness ;  and  with  the  soul-calm 
came  sudden  clearness.  A  flush  rose  in  his  pale  cheeks, 
and  his  eyes  flashed  with  hopeful  fire. 

"  Liutrad !  Gerold !  "  he  shouted ;  "  the  princess  faints ! 
Skate  abreast,  that  you  may  bear  her  up  between  you. 
Soon  you  may  ease  your  stroke.  I  go  to  play  with  the 
dogs  of  Odin." 

"  God  forbid ! "  cried  Liutrad.  "  Let  me  be  the  one  to 
stay  them." 

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FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  And  gorge  their  jaws !  No,  lad ;  you  own  the  greater 
strength ;  I  the  greater  fleetness.  Each  to  his  part !  " 

"  Let  Pepin  come  beside  me,"  said  Hildegarde.  "  He 
can  hold  to  my  hand." 

"  I  '11  drag  little,  dear  mother,"  replied  the  boy.  "  I  'm 
still  strong." 

"  And  I,  mother,"  echoed  Karl,  with  boyish  pride. 

"  You  're  brave  lads,  both,"  answered  Gerold.  "Slacken 
more,  Liutrad.  Now,  Pepin,  cross  over  to  your  mother  — 
so;  well  done!  We're  ready,  Olvir." 

"None  too  soon!"  rejoined  Olvir,  and  he  fell  back 
until  Liutrad  caught  the  fainting  maiden  from  his  grasp. 

Borne  up  between  the  two  young  warriors,  Rothada 
had  now  only  to  lean  her  weight  upon  their  strong  arms, 
and  glide  onwards,  swept  along  by  their  powerful  strokes. 
The  pace  was  still  swift  enough  to  hold  the  hundred  strokes 
gained  over  the  horde  at  the  first.  Olvir  was  quick  to 
heed  the  fact,  and  his  face  shone  as  he  circled  about  the 
others  for  a  farewell  view. 

"All's  well!"  he  called  cheerily.  "Hold  on  only  a 
little  longer,  and  you  may  ease  the  pace." 

Still  smiling,  he  plucked  an  arrow  from  his  quiver,  and 
swept  around  on  his  daring  mission.  In  another  moment 
he  was  skimming  at  arrowy  speed  straight  into  the  face  of 
the  pack,  his  gold-red  hair  streaming,  his  face  bright  and 
eager  with  the  joy  of  battle. 

Once  and  again  the  war-bow  twanged,  and  two  of  the 
grey  leaders  sprang  high  in  the  death-leap.  But,  heedless 
of  their  dead,  the  pack  swept  on  over  the  writhing  bodies 
to  meet  the  slayer.  Already  the  rash  skater  was  upon 
them.  Another  instant,  and  he  would  be  struggling  in 
their  midst.  But  even  as  the  lolling  tongues  drew  in  for 
the  leap-bite,  and  the  fiery  eyes  gleamed  red  with  baleful 
joy,  the  mad  quarry  wheeled  like  a  striking  hawk,  and  shot 

330 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

away  to  the  right  from  under  their  very  jaws.  In  their 
eagerness,  many  of  the  foremost  wolves  leaped  at  the 
Northman ;  but  their  jaws  clashed  together  through  empty 
air,  and  they  fell  sprawling  upon  the  ice,  to  be  overrun  by 
their  fellows. 

Wild  with  baffled  fury,  the  whole  pack  swerved  to 
follow  the  fleeing  quarry  as  he  swept  slantingly  across  the 
broad  expanse  of  the  river.  Olvir  could  have  asked  no 
more.  Skimming  along  just  beyond  reach  of  the  foam- 
dripping  jaws,  he  gazed  back  at  his  ferocious  pursuers  with 
a  mocking  smile. 

"  Follow !  follow  me,  dogs  of  Odin !  "  he  jeered.  "  I  '11 
lead  you  a  merry  dance ;  to  and  fro,  —  a  game  of  ice-tag. 
So ;  we  near  the  bank.  Now  across  to  the  other  side ;  and 
as  we  go,  I  '11  play  on  my  one-stringed  harp.  You  shall 
have  music  to  your  singing ! " 

Circling  on  the  very  edge  of  the  ice-rim,  Olvir  swept 
obliquely  back  across  the  river.  But  as  he  turned,  his 
smile  gave  way  to  sudden  grimness,  and  he  raised  his  hand 
to  his  quiver.  Then  the  war-bow  began  to  twang  its  an- 
swer to  the  yelling  beasts,  and  arrow  after  arrow  drove 
into  their  midst  with  vengeful  force.  Hardly  a  shaft  flew 
wide  of  its  mark;  yet  they  followed  so  swiftly  one  upon 
the  other  that  the  quiver  was  emptied  and  the  last  shaft 
whirring  from  the  string  before  the  flying  bowman  had 
crossed  the  channel. 

"  Thor !  "  he  shouted  in  fierce  joy.  "  We  've  played  a 
merry  game,  white-fangs ;  now  for  a  merrier ! " 

Deftly  the  bow  was  unstrung  and  slipped  into  its  case, 
and  then  the  bared  blade  of  Al-hatif  glittered  in  the  sea- 
king's  upraised  hand.  But  as  he  swerved  out  again  from 
the  alder  thickets,  he  first  glanced  up  the  river  after  his 
fleeing  companions.  Briefly  as  the  terrible  play  had  lasted, 
the  others  had  already  gained  many  more  yards  over  the 


mj 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


horde.  While  their  peril,  however,  was  lessening,  his  had 
suddenly  doubled.  Not  all  the  wolves  had  followed  him 
in  his  second  turn  across  the  river..  A  hundred  or  more, 
running  straight  onward,  had  put  themselves  in  advance 
of  the  doubling  quarry.  The  foremost  were  already  cir- 
cling around  to  hedge  him  in. 

It  was  no  time  to  falter.  Putting  out  the  very  utmost 
of  his  skill  and  strength,  Olvir  dashed  toward  the  fast- 
closing  line  at  a  speed  that  dropped  the  following  wolves 
to  the  rear  as  though  they  had  been  at  a  stand. 

"  Ho,  dogs !  "  he  shouted.  "  Skate  to  paw ;  sword  to 
fang !  I  come ;  I  come  to  your  blood-game !  " 

An  outburst  of  ferocious  yells  answered  the  boastful 
shout,  and  from  right  and  left  the  beasts  sprang  in  to  meet 
him.  But  again  Olvir  wheeled  with  hawk-like  quickness. 
Two  strokes,  and  he  was  before  a  gap  in  the  line  guarded 
by  a  single  grey  leader.  Once  again  he  wheeled,  to  dart 
through  the  gap.  Swiftly  as  he  came,  the  old  wolf  saw 
his  purpose,  and  crouched  low.  But,  even  as  the  beast 
leaped,  Olvir  swerved  and  shot  safely  past  him;  and,  in  the 
passing,  Al-hatif  whistled  in  a  slashing  upstroke.  Greyleg 
fell  upon  the  ice,  never  to  leap  again.  « 

With  a  wild  shout,  Olvir  dashed  out  from  the  death- 
trap, and,  undaunted  by  his  close  escape,  turned  for  a  third 
race  across  the  river.  But  as  he  wheeled,  a  great  gust  of 
wind  came  roaring  through  the  oaks,  and  the  air  suddenly 
grew  thick  with  driven  snow.  Instantly  Olvir  sheathed 
his  reddened  blade,  and,  with  his  shoulder  to  the  quarter- 
ing gale,  drove  straight  up  the  river  at  a  speed  which  Floki 
himself  might  not  have  equalled. 

Soon  the  baffled  pursuers  fell  to  the  rear.    Their  yells 

died  away  in  the  roaring  of  the  storm,  and  the  snow  swept 

between  in  a  swirling,  blinding  mist.     But  if  the  white 

storm-veil  hid  the  Northman  from  his  pursuers,  it  blotted 

332 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

out  no  less  completely  all  view  of  his  companions.  For  a 
while  he  kept  on  at  racing  speed,  until  he  thought  he 
should  be  upon  them.  Then  he  slackened  his  stroke,  and 
shouted  into  the  white  gloom.  No  answer  came  back  but 
the  loud  complaint  of  the  straining  oaks  and  the  shriek 
and  roar  of  the  blast  through  the  lashing  boughs. 

Again  Olvir  shouted,  his  face  dark  with  sudden  mis- 
giving ;  still  no  answer.  With  a  bitter  cry,  he  wheeled  to 
circle  about  in  the  dense  whirl.  But  then  the  air  quivered 
with  the  blast  of  a  hunting-horn,  so  clear  and  loud  that  it 
might  have  been  blown  within  arm's  length. 

"  None  bore  horns !  It  must  be  Floki !  "  he  cried,  and 
he  drove  straight  into  the  teeth  of  the  gale.  The  fierce- 
driving  snow  blinded  him;  but  he  kept  on,  groping  with 
outstretched  hands.  Suddenly  a  white  figure  swept  past 
before  him,  so  near  that  he  could  almost  touch  it.  He 
wheeled  to  follow,  and  at  once  saw  that  it  was  linked  in 
line  with  other  figures.  His  heart  leaped  with  thanksgiving. 
Here  were  all  six,  —  maid  and  dame,  bairns  and  warriors, 
—  all  safe ;  ay,  and  with  one  added  to  their  number !  Not 
even  Liutrad  was  so  big  and  strong  as  the  skater  who 
drove  along  at  the  far  end  of  their  line,  his  massive  shoul- 
der braced  against  the  wind. 

"  The  king ! "  shouted  Olvir,  as  he  swung  in  to  join 
himself  to  the  near  end  of  the  line. 

A  welcoming  hail  burst  from  the  lips  of  the  skaters, 
and  as  they  felt  the  thrust  of  Olvir's  tireless  stroke,  they 
swept  on  with  added  speed.  Even  Rothada  found  new 
strength  in  the  joy  of  her  hero's  presence,  and,  no  longer 
contented  with  gliding,  she  joined  in  the  swinging  stroke 
of  the  others. 


CHAPTER  XII 


Now  behold  the  fourth  rede: 
If  ill  witch  thee  bideth, 
Woe-begetting  by  the  way, 


Good  going  farther 
Rather  than  guesting, 
Though  thick  night  be  upon  thee. 
LAY  OF  SIGRDRIFA. 


[OUCH  the  blast  struck  quar- 
•ing  in  the  faces  of  the  skaters, 
the  brunt  of  its  force  was  broken 
by  the  king's  body;  so  that  the 
others,  dragged  on  by  his  bull- 
strength  and  Olvir's  wiry  vigor, 
held  to  a  pace  which  lost  none 
of  the  distance  they  had  gained 
on  the  wolf-pack  before  the 
storm  burst. 

"Thor!"  shouted  Liutrad,  hoarse  but  joyful.  "We 
cheat  both  werwolves  and  storm-fiends!  We  shall  soon 
be  sitting  by  the  glowing  hearth !  " 

"God  grant  it!"  replied  Karl.  "Yet  you  crow  too 
soon,  lad.  There  's  a  turn  ahead  will  bring  us  into  the 
teeth  of  the  wind.  Even  now  we  should  be  swerving." 

"Saint  Michael!"  gasped  Gerold.  "We  can  never 
drive  against  this  blast ! " 

"  No,  by  Thor !  "  called  back  Olvir.  "  Even  now  we 
can  scarce  hold  our  own  —  and  behind  comes  the  horde! 
We  are  doomed  if  we  linger  on  the  ice.  To  the  bank, 
lord  king !  There  's  no  other  way !  " 

"  A  hard  truth,  Dane  hawk!  Yet  it  is  better  to  freeze 
than  to  be  torn  by  ravening  beasts.  Heu  I  I  know  of  a  hut 

334 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


among  the  oaks.  To  the  forest!  The  pack  runs  blind, 
with  neither  sight  nor  scent.  They'll  follow  the  river 
and  pass  us  by." 

"  To  the  bank ! "  shouted  Liutrad  and  Gerold ;  and 
the  line  of  skaters  swung  around  to  glide  inshore.  Blinded 
by  the  whirling  flakes,  they  drove  upon  the  low  bank 
before  aware  of  its  nearness.  Staggering  and  half  fall- 
ing, they  stumbled  across  the  rough  ice-rim,  and  flung 
themselves  down  upon  the  bank  to  tear  at  their  skate- 
thongs. 

Olvir  did  not  wait  to  untie  knots.  Even  as  he  loosed 
his  grip  on  young  Karl,  he  drew  his  silver-hilted  dagger. 
In  a  twinkling  he  had  freed  both  himself  and  the  boy,  and 
was  springing  to  the  side  of  Rothada.  Thrusting  her 
skates  with  his  own  and  young  Karl's  into  his  empty 
quiver,  he  drew  the  maiden  to  her  feet.  The  others  had  all 
freed  themselves,  and  sprang  up  together. 

"  Leave  no  scent  for  the  wood-fiends !  Hold  to 
your  skates,  and  follow  me ! "  commanded  Karl.  Fling- 
ing his  younger  son  upon  his  shoulder,  he  grasped  Hilde- 
garde  by  the  hand,  and  rushed  headlong  in  among  the 
oaks. 

Liutrad  caught  up  Pepin  as  the  king  had  taken  his 
brother,  and  dashed  away  after  their  leader.  Olvir  and 
Gerold,  with  Rothada  between  them,  followed  as  closely 
upon  his  heels.  They  were  none  too  quick.  Hardly  had 
they  covered  a  hundred  paces,  when  behind  them  a  sudden 
burst  of  fierce  yells  rang  out  across  the  wind. 

"  God  save  us !  they  Ve  turned !  "  gasped  Rothada ; 
while  Gerold  gripped  his  sword-hilt  and  loosened  the  blade 
in  its  sheath,  in  readiness  for  his  last  fight.  But  the  yelling 
cry  died  away  as  quickly  as  it  had  swelled  out.  The  wolf- 
pack  had  overshot  the  snow-swept  trail,  and  were  racing 
on  around  the  river-bend.  For  many  minutes,  however,  the 

335 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

king  led  on  into  the  forest  without  slackening  his  swift 
stride.  He  did  not  check  himself  until  Hildegarde 
stumbled  and  half  fell. 

"  Dear  lord,  I  am  very  weary,"  she  sighed. 

Halting  so  abruptly  that  Liutrad  almost  ran  upon 
him,  Karl  caught  his  queen  in  his  free  arm,  and  drew 
her  close. 

"  Rest,  sweetheart,"  he  said  gently.  "  We  are  safe  for 
a  time." 

"A  long  time,  lord  king,"  added  Liutrad.  "Even 
should  the  pack  turn,  they  'd  do  well  to  hunt  us  out  in  this 
wild  flurry." 

All  the  party  drew  close  together,  and  stood  panting, 
while  the  shrieking  storm-fiends  swirled  the  snow  about 
them  in  dizzy  eddies.  Soon,  however,  Olvir  felt  Rothada 
shiver  beneath  his  cloak. 

"Lead  on,  lord  king,"  he  said.  "To  linger  here  is 
death!  Lead  on  to  your  hut." 

Karl  raised  his  head,  and  peered  around  through  the 
driving  snow. 

"  By  my  sword,  Olvir,"  he  muttered ;  "  you  ask  what 
is  beyond  my  skill.  Here  among  the  trees  the  blast  swirls 
down  from  every  quarter.  Who  could  guide  through  such 
a  storm?  " 

"  Then  we  must  wander  blindly.  If  we  stand,  we  shall 
perish  of  cold." 

"  Follow,  then.    We  '11  try  at  a  venture." 

"Stay,  sire!"  warned  Gerold.  "What  comes  behind 
you?  " 

Karl  turned  sharply  to  stare  at  the  huge  form  which 
loomed  up  out  of  the  snow-mist  and  drifted  by  within  a 
spear-length.  As  it  passed,  the  great  shape  swung  about 
its  steaming  muzzle  to  sniff  at  the  party,  and  then  it  lum- 
bered on  at  the  same  leisurely  gait. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  A  bear!  "  muttered  Karl ;  and  he  drew  back  to  shield 
his  helpless  charges. 

Liutrad  sprang  before  him  with  brandished  spear. 

"White  biorn!"  he  cried,  — " white  biorn!  What 
does  the  berg-rider  in  Frank  Land?  " 

"  Were  I  yet  heathen,"  rejoined  Olvir,  "  I  'd  say  we 
look  upon  the  king's  sprite." 

"It  is  —  it  is,  earl!  No  beast  could  pass  so  quietly. 
Follow  your  guardian  sprite,  sire !  It  leads  you  to  safety !  " 

"Would  you  have  me  follow  a  forest  fiend?  And 
yet,  beast  or  sprite,  we  can  do  no  better!  Come,  then;  our 
guide  vanishes." 

"Lead  on,  sire,"  answered  Olvir;  and  all  hurried  in 
pursuit  of  the  dim  white  figure.  Once  close  upon  it,  they 
slackened  their  pace,  and  silently  followed  the  wraith-like 
guide  as  it  lumbered  steadily  onward  into  the  forest. 

Half  a  league  or  more  had  been  passed,  and  both  Hil- 
degarde  and  Rothada  were  nearly  outspent,  when  the 
strange  guide  swerved  suddenly  and  disappeared.  At  the 
same  moment  a  dark  object,  broader  than  any  oak,  loomed 
before  the  wanderers.  They  advanced,  turning  a  little  to 
one  side,  and  there,  only  a  few  paces  before  them,  they  saw 
a  red  spot  glowing  in  the  dark  barrier. 

"The  hut!"  cried  Karl. 

Gerold  sprang  ahead,  and,  thrusting  open  a  loose 
corner  of  the  window  parchment,  peered  into  the  hut.  The 
others  would  have  hurried  past  him  to  the  rude  door  just 
beyond ;  but  he  uttered  a  low  cry,  and  stepped  before  the 
king  with  outstretched  hands. 

"  Stay,  sire,  stay ! "  he  muttered  in  a  hushed  tone. 
"  Better  wolf  and  storm  than  witch-cheer!  Look  within !  " 

Startled  by  the  warning,  Karl  and  then  Liutrad  peered 
through  the  broken  parchment,  and  each  in  turn  drew 
back  with  the  same  look  which  distended  the  eyes  of  the 

337 


22 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


Swabian.  Last  of  all,  Olvir  put  his  eye  to  the  hole.  The 
first  glance  showed  him  a  squalid  little  room  whose  walls 
of  rotting  logs  stood  out  grimy  and  bare  in  the  glow  of  the 
driftwood  fire.  The  rafters  of  the  low  thatch  were  veiled 
by  the  smoke,  indriven  by  the  wind,  which  eddied  through 
the  roof-hole  and  sent  little  whirls  of  snowflakes  hissing 
into  the  flames. 

Crouched  upon  the  rude  hearth,  across  the  fire  from  each 
other,  were  two  women ;  and  Olvir  instantly  recognized  the 
one  on  the  left  as  Fastrada.  She  sat  with  her  head  thrust 
forward,  gazing  keenly  across  at  her  hearth-mate. 

After  the  maiden,  Olvir  felt  little  surprise  when  his 
glance  turned  to  the  tall  woman  who  sat  rocking  to  and  fro 
on  the  edge  of  the  hearth  and  crooning  a  strange  song,  while 
weasels  played  about  her  feet  and  ran  up  and  down  her 
outstretched  arms.  It  was  the  girl's  mother,  the  Wend 
mate  of  the  old  Grey  Wolf. 

The  woman's  head  was  uncovered,  and  Olvir  stared 
with  keen  curiosity  at  her  black  hair  and  aquiline  features. 
Her  dark  oval  face  still  showed  traces  of  great  beauty ;  but 
age  and  witch-deeds  had  stained  and  withered  her  cheeks 
and  caused  the  once  beautiful  eyes  to  sink  deep  into  their 
sockets.  Even  without  the  weasels,  the  look  of  malignant 
joy  on  the  witch's  face  would  have  set  most  hearts  to  quak- 
ing. But  Olvir  was  smiling,  half  pityingly,  at  the  dread 
which  even  the  king  had  betrayed,  when  the  witch  chanced 
to  turn  so  that  the  firelight  struck  upon  her  cheek.  At  the 
sight  he  started  and  almost  cried  out.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  a  red  adder  had  thrust  up  from  beneath  the  woman's 
neckband  and  laid  its  venomous  head  upon  her  cheek. 
When  he  stared  more  closely,  however,  he  saw  that  the 
snake-head,  though  perfect  in  outline,  was  only  a  crimson 
blotch  upon  the  witch's  skin.  He  drew  back  with  a  grim 
laugh. 

338 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  No  wonder  she  hid  her  face,"  he  muttered.  "  What 
woman  would  not,  with  such  a  mark?  But  now  —  ho,  lord 
king;  why  do  we  linger?  Let  us  hasten  in." 

"  In !  "  rejoined  Gerold,  —  "  a  witch  den !  " 

"  She  is  Fastrada's  mother, — the  wife  of  Count  Rudulf. 
She  will  gladly  give  hearth-cheer  to  her  husband's  lord. 
Come." 

"Hold,  Olvir.  If  we  go,  I  lead,"  said  Karl;  and  he 
thrust  ahead  to  the  hut  door.  He  found  the  latch-string  in 
and  the  door  fast  barred.  His  knock  must  have  resounded 
through  the  narrow  room  like  the  beating  of  a  hammer; 
but  though  he  waited  for  an  answer,  all  was  silence  within. 

The  king  did  not  knock  again.  Setting  down  the  half- 
frozen  boy  from  his  shoulder,  he  threw  his  weight  against 
the  door.  Before  the  shock,  it  flew  violently  inwards,  its 
bar  snapped  short  in  the  socket.  Having  thus  cleared  the 
way,  the  king  drew  Hildegarde  and  the  boy  to  him,  and 
stooped  to  pass  beneath  the  lintel.  As  the  others  pushed 
after  him  into  the  warm  interior,  they  saw  Fastrada  start 
up  and  stand  glaring  at  them  with  the  horror  of  one  who 
looks  upon  some  grisly  spectre. 

The  Wend  woman  had  shrouded  herself  about  in  her 
grey  cloak,  and  sat  quietly  in  her  place,  staring  at  the 
forceful  guests  from  the  depths  of  her  hood.  Of  the 
weasels  nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  a  pair  of  fiery  little 
eyes  peering  out  from  the  folds  of  the  cloak  upon  her 
bosom.  The  witch  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  Odin  bear  witness,"  she  said  in  a  tone  of  quiet  scorn. 
"  It  is  very  fitting  that  he  who  thus  breaks  in  on  helpless 
women  calls  himself  King  of  the  Franks." 

"  And  over-lord  of  your  lord,  Wend  wife.  Make  way 
by  the  fire  for  us." 

"  I  make  way  for  no  one,  —  much  less  for  Pepin's  son," 
came  back  the  hissing  retort. 


1 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  king's  brows  met  in  a  stern  frown. 

"  That  we  shall  soon  see,  woman,"  he  said.  "  Liutrad, 
put  this  hag  from  the  hearth." 

"I,  lord  king!"  muttered  the  young  giant,  and  his 
ruddy  face  whitened.  But  then,  crossing  himself,  he  ad- 
vanced resolutely  upon  the  dreaded  alruna.  None  the  less, 
his  relief  was  plain  to  be  seen  when  the  Wend  woman  rose 
and  withdrew  to  the  far  end  of  the  hut,  without  waiting  to 
be  forced. 

Then  at  last,  as  the  shivering  guests  crowded  about 
the  fire,  Fastrada  found  her  tongue.  Springing  forward, 
she  threw  herself  at  Hildegarde's  feet,  and  loudly  protested 
her  delight :  "  My  gracious  dame  —  sweet  queen !  You  're 
safe!  safe!  and  the  bairns  and  the  little  maiden  —  all 
alike  have  escaped  the  cruel  —  the  cruel  storm!" 

"  And  the  wolf-pack !  "  rejoined  Pepin,  proudly. 

"  Holy  Mother !  —  wolves  ?  " 

"  Nor  was  aid  sent  us,  maiden,"  said  Karl,  sternly. 

Fastrada  half  rose,  and  flung  out  her  hands. 

"  Forgive  me,  sire !  "  she  murmured.  "  I,  too,  was  lost ; 
I,  too,  wandered  in  the  storm.  Only  a  little  while  since  I 
came  upon  this  unholy  den.  Blessed  be  the  saints  who 
brought  you  to  end  my  fears ! " 

"  Why  fears,  maiden?  Should  any  mother,  however 
much  a  witch,  harm  her  own  child?  " 

Fastrada  hung  her  head,  visibly  disconcerted  by  the 
answer.  Her  reply  came  haltingly,  and  in  a  tone  almost 
too  low  to  be  heard:  "Your  Majesty,  should  I  bear  — 
should  I  suffer  for  her  deeds?  It  is  too  much!  Even  my 
horror  —  Ah,  let  her  witchcraft  meet  with  the  just  doom- 
ing of  the  king's  law !  She  is  no  mother  to  me ! " 

"  Ay,  girl,  no  longer  am  I  mother  to  you ! "  hissed  out 
the  Wend  woman,  and  she  glided  around  to  the  open  door. 
At  the  threshold  she  turned,  and,  flinging  back  her  hood, 

340 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


faced  all  openly.  The  twitching  muscles  of  her  sallow 
cheek  gave  to  the  crimson  adder-head  a  fearful  semblance 
of  life,  and  the  horror  lost  nothing  by  the  malignant  fury 
of  her  look  and  the  sibilance  in  her  low-pitched  voice. 

"  So,"  she  hissed ;  "  the  sly  trull  is  bent  upon  saving 
herself.  Having  been  caught  in  company  with  the  Wend 
witch,  she  seeks  to  cast  off  the  mother  who  bore  her !  Let 
her  be  content ;  she  has  proved  herself  a  changeling.  The 
daughter  of  the  Snake  could  not  be  mother  to  a  child  so 
base  and  cowardly  as  to  deny  the  bond  of  kinship.  No 
longer  is  she  blood  of  my  blood  or  bone  of  my  bone.  I  go ; 
but,  as  parting  gift,  I  leave  her  my  curse,  —  the  curse  of 
one  who  was  a  mother.  She  shall  taste  of  power,  and  it 
shall  be  as  ashes  in  her  mouth ;  she  shall  hunger  for  love, 
and  hate  shall  wither  her  heart.  Woe  to  her ! " 

Pausing,  with  upraised  hand,  the  witch  shifted  her 
hateful  gaze  from  her  cowering  daughter  to  the  startled 
group  about  the  fire. 

"  As  for  you,  storm-guests,"  she  went  on,  "  learn  that 
the  witch-wife  has  gifts  for  all.  To  Pepin's  son  I  give  toil 
and  sweat  and  bloody  victory.  Joy  to  the  crusher  of  free 
folk !  None  may  withstand  the  world-hero.  Hoary-headed, 
he  dies  in  the  straw;  for  no  longer  are  there  foes  to  with- 
stand him  in  battle.  And  then  I  see  the  storm  gather 
in  the  frozen  North.  The  dragons  swim  the  salt  waves; 
they  fall  upon  Frank  Land,  ravening  with  fangs  of  steel  and 
with  flaming  breath.  The  kin  of  Pepin's  son  flee  as  hares. 
Thor  smites  the  White  Christ!  The  Frank  realm  shatters 
in  fragments ! " 

"  Hold,  fiend- wife ! "  roared  Karl ;  and  he  turned  threat- 
eningly upon  the  woman,  all  dread  of  her  witchcraft  for- 
gotten in  his  deep  anger.  But  she  met  him  with  a  look 
which  even  his  imperious  will  could  not  withstand.  He 
stood  spellbound,  transfixed  by  the  cold  glitter  of  her 

34* 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

sunken  eyes.  For  a  little  she  held  him  powerless,  —  him, 
the  world-hero,  king  of  half  Europe.  Then  her  thin  white 
lips  curled  scornfully,  and  she  turned  from  him  to  the 
others. 

"  Enough  of  Pepin's  son,"  she  scoffed.  "  As  to  these 
Norse  curs,  false  alike  to  their  folk  and  their  gods,  my  curse 
is  needless.  The  gods  whom  they  have  betrayed  will  exact 
full  vengeance.  But  I  put  my  curse  on  the  brood  of  the 
bloody  Frank,  —  maiden,  bairns,  and  bed-mate,  —  all  who 
stand  before  me.  May  the  king's  sons  never  wear  crown ; 
may  the  nun-maid  lose  her  bright  hero ;  may  the  fair  queen 
know  beforetime  —  " 

The  woman  paused,  and  looked  darkly  from  Hilde- 
garde  to  her  daughter.  She  was  yet  gloating  upon  the  two 
when  Rothada  rose  and  came  to  her  with  outstretched 
arms. 

"  Ah,  dame,  good  dame,  be  still !  "  she  cried.  "  Christ 
forgive  you  the  evil  words!  Turn  to  Him;  cast  out  the 
hatred  from  your  heart  before  your  own  curses  creep  in  to 
wither  it ! " 

" Hell  what  is  this?"  muttered  the  woman;  and  she 
drew  back  in  bewilderment.  Her  eyes  glared  into  the 
pleading  eyes  of  the  king's  daughter  with  a  look  almost  of 
terror.  Suddenly,  without  a  word,  she  turned  and  rushed 
out  into  the  storm. 


342 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Until  that  Guiki 
With  gold  arrayed  me 
And  gave  me  to  Sigurd. 

LAY  OF  GUDRUN. 

OR  a  while  the  deserted  guests 
stood    staring    at    one    another, 
and  there  was  dread  in  the  eyes 
^•T"""^^  of  even  Liutrad  and  the  king. 

I I  Olvir  alone  showed  no  fear.    If 

he  had  dared  the  power  of  the 
B  Wend  witch   in   the   depths   of 

*^    ""*  Fulda    Wood,    he    would    not 

yield   awe  to   her   now.     Pres- 

^^^^    yfently  he  burst  into  a  scornful 

laugh. 

"Thor!"  he  jeered.  "The  witch-wife  flees  before  a 
child,  —  a  fearsome  witch !  " 

"  By  the  rood !  "  muttered  Karl,  and  he  drew  in  a  deep 
breath ;  "  they  say  true  who  name  Rudulf 's  wife  a  heathen 
alruna." 

But  Hildegarde  gathered  the  two  trembling  boys  in 
her  arms,  and  looked  across  at  Olvir  with  a  grateful 
smile. 

"  Dear  lord,"  she  said,  "  our  bright  Dane  speaks  truth. 
Witch  or  no,  the  Wend  woman  has  fled  before  our  little 
maiden.  What  need  have  we  to  fear  the  curse  of  one  so 
powerless?  " 

"  Here  is  yet  more  comfort  for  those  who  have  faith  in 
spells,"  added  Olvir.  "  At  the  king's  belt  swings  Ironbiter, 

343 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

my  father's  sword,  upon  whose  blade  are  magic  runes,  cut 
by  Otkar  himself.  They  are  pledged  to  guard  the  wielder 
against  all  witchcraft  and  evil." 

Gerold  shook  his  head  doubtingly,  and  drew  closer  to 
the  fire.  "  I  have  more  faith  in  Christian  signs.  Yet 
though  I  marked  the  cross  while  she  spoke,  and  twice  since, 
I  say  freely  that  I  would  sooner  face  an  aurochs  bull  naked- 
handed  than  stand  again  before  that  witch.  Thank  God, 
she  is  gone !  " 

"Into  the  storm,  brother!"  murmured  Hildegarde, 
pityingly.  "  May  the  dear  Christ  save  her  body  from  wolf 
and  cold,  and  her  soul  from  hatred !  " 

At  the  fervent  prayer,  Fastrada  stared  up  at  the  queen 
as  her  mother  had  stared  at  Rothada.  But  when  she  met 
Hildegarde's  mild  eyes,  radiant  with  spiritual  light,  her 
gaze  sank  again  to  the  hearth  at  her  feet,  and  a  dark  flush 
overspread  her  face.  Karl,  who  alone  gave  heed  to  the 
girl's  shame,  mistook  its  cause,  and  his  own  face  reddened 
with  a  guilty  flush. 

"God  bless  you,  dear  wife!"  he  muttered.  "What 
curse  can  bring  harm  upon  so  gracious  a  soul?  But  as 
to  that  Wend  witch,  should  she  escape  the  storm  and  wolf- 
pack,  let  her  beware  the  law.  Though  twice  over  the  wife 
of  Rudulf  and  mother  of  this  maiden,  I  will  enforce  against 
her  to  the  utmost  the  just  doom  for  evil  spells  and 
witcheries.  Enough  for  the  time  of  the  hag  and  her  curses. 
She  has  gone  out  among  her  storm-fiends ;  let  them  cherish 
her.  We  will  warm  our  knees  by  her  hearth.  Fetch  wood 
for  the  fire!" 

As  Gerold  and  Liutrad  sprang  up  to  bring  fagots  from 
the  far  end  of  the  hut,  Olvir  led  Rothada  about  to  the  fire, 
and  sought  a  new  bar  for  the  door,  which  was  swaying  to 
and  fro  with  the  eddying  draught.  Before  making  it  fast, 
however,  he  peered  out  in  search  of  the  Wend  woman.  He 

344 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

might  as  well  have  sought  to  look  through  a  fog  on  the 
narrow  seas. 

Though  the  first  fury  of  the  wind  had  spent  its  force, 
the  snow  was  now  falling  with  greater  thickness  than  ever. 
For  all  Olvir  could  tell,  their  grim  hostess  might  have  been 
lurking  within  a  dozen  yards  of  the  doorway.  He  hesi- 
tated on  the  threshold,  and  was  about  to  shout,  when  his 
quick  ear  caught  another  note  than  the  creak  and  soughing 
of  the  oak-tops. 

"  Floki !  —  The  laggard  comes  at  last !  "  he  said,  and  he 
faced  about  to  the  steaming  group  around  the  fire.  "  Lis- 
ten, lord  king!  I  hear  horns.  My  vikings  come  in  search 
of  their  vala." 

Horn  in  hand,  Karl  sprang  out  beside  the  Northman, 
and  blew  the  trysting-note.  Three  times  he  repeated  the 
call,  and  then  at  last  an  answering  note  came  blar^ 
ing  down  the  wind.  Off  toward  the  river  other  horns 
caught  up  and  re-echoed  the  call.  The  searchers  were 
beating  through  the  forest.  Guided  by  frequent  blasts 
of  the  king's  horn,  they  gathered  quickly  through  the 
white  snow-mist. 

Soon  the  nearest  horn  resounded  within  a  spear-throw, 
and  Olvir  flung  open  the  door,  that  the  red  firelight  might 
glow  out  into  the  storm.  Hardly  had  he  done  so,  when  a 
gigantic  white  figure  leaped  out  of  the  swirling  snow-mist, 
and  halted  within  two  paces  of  the  doorway,  to  lean,  pant- 
ing, upon  the  long  shaft  of  a  halberd. 

"  Greeting,  Floki,"  said  Olvir,  in  a  very  quiet  tone. 
"  You  come  over-late  to  the  skating." 

"Forgive,  earl!"  replied  the  tall  viking.  "Let  the 
king  say  if  the  storm  did  not  burst  before  the  signs  boded; 
and,  more,  we  Ve  had  a  game  on  the  way." 

"Saint  Michael!"  cried  Karl;  "you're  torn,  man,— 
you  bleed !  The  wolves ! " 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"They  had  their  chase,  lord  king;  now  they  rest  on 
the  ice.  Only  a  few  turned  back  before  us.  After  the 
blood-game,  we  spread  out  from  either  bank.  A  witling 
could  have  guessed  that  you  'd  tricked  the  grey  dogs  in 
the  flurry." 

"  Come  within,"  said  Olvir.  "  The  others  draw  near. 
I  '11  bind  up  your  shoulder  while  they  gather." 

"  Let  be,  ring-breaker.  I  would  not  bring  blood  before 
the  queen  and  our  little  vala.  It  is  only  a  flesh  nip,  and  can 
wait.  Here  come  those  whom  I  outran.  Make  ready  the 
women  and  bairns,  and  we  '11  bear  all  to  the  king's  burg." 

"  Better  for  them  to  linger  by  the  warm  hearth  till  the 
storm  is  spent,"  said  Olvir. 

But  Karl  struck  his  fist  into  his  open  palm. 

"  No !  by  all  the  fiends,  no !  "  he  swore.  "  We  linger 
no  longer  under  this  unholy  roof.  Ho!  within  there, — 
Liutrad  —  Gerold !  Cast  the  brands  among  the  fagots,  and 
let  all  come  out.  Guests  arrive;  we  should  have  hearth- 
cheer  for  all." 

Obedient  to  the  king's  command,  the  young  men 
swept  the  blazing  brands  from  the  hearthstone  across 
to  the  high-heaped  stack  of  fuel.  Quickly  the  flames 
licked  in  among  the  dry  fagots,  and  spread  to  right  and 
left.  Then,  puzzled,  but  satisfied  that  they  had  done  the 
king's  will,  the  young  men  followed  the  others  from  the 
hut.  As  they  passed  the  threshold,  a  dozen  vikings  came 
leaping  out  of  the  white  swirl,  wild  with  delight  at  sight 
of  their  little  vala. 

In  the  midst  of  the  rejoicings,  the  fire  within  the  hut 
burst  hissing  through  the  sodden  thatch,  and  poured  out 
overhead  in  a  torrent  of  smoke  and  flames.  Then  the  red 
tongues  began  to  thrust  between  the  half-rotted  logs  of  the 
wall ;  for  the  hut  within  was  dry  as  tinder.  The  leeward 
wall  soon  became  a  solid  sheet  of  flame. 

346 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

As  all  drew  back  from  the  blazing  hut,  a  second  band 
of  vikings  came  shouting  through  the  forest,  guided  by  the 
horns.  Hot  after  these  ran  half  a  hundred  Franks  and 
Northmen,  with  Fulrad,  the  valiant  old  churchman,  at 
their  head,  brandishing  a  boar-spear. 

At  sight  of  the  abbot,  Karl  beckoned  to  him,  and 
called  imperiously  for  the  shouting  to  cease.  When  both 
Franks  and  vikings  had  gathered  in  a  ring  of  wondering 
listeners,  he  laid  his  hand  on  Olvir's  shoulder,  and  raised 
his  voice  high  and  clear  above  the  uproar  of  the  storm. 

"  Listen,  liegemen  and  vikings !  It  is  fitting  that 
friends  should  return  gift  for  gift.  This  day  my  Dane 
hawk  has  given  to  me  a  gift  beyond  price,  —  the  lives  of 
my  queen  and  children.  Had  not  the  hero  turned  back  to 
play  with  death  in  the  teeth  of  the  wolf-pack,  all  my  loved 
ones  would  have  met  their  fate  on  the  frozen  stream.  Now, 
therefore,  I  pledge  to  the  son  of  Thorbiorn  the  hand  of  my 
daughter  Rothada,  and,  that  none  may  doubt  my  faith, 
the  maiden  shall  plight  her  troth  with  the  hero.  Whenever 
he  has  fulfilled  the  terms  I  have  set  for  him,  they  shall  wed. 
Fulrad  will  receive  their  vows." 

A  great  shout  of  mingled  astonishment  and  delight 
burst  from  the  lips  of  the  snow-shrouded  onlookers.  But 
all  fell  silent  again  as  Olvir  and  Rothada  clasped  hands. 

So,  their  hearts  brimming  over  with  love  and  joy,  sea- 
king  and  king's  daughter  plighted  their  troth  before  the 
priest,  in  the  midst  of  the  swirling  storm.  Out  of  the 
jaws  of  the  wolf-pack,  they  had  won  not  only  life,  but 

joy- 
When  the  vows  were  spoken,  and  the  abbot  had 
blessed  the  betrothed,  the  Franks  joined  full-voiced  in  the 
shouts  of  the  vikings.  For  the  time  at  least  there  was  only 
one  among  all  present  who  did  not  share  in  the  joy  of  the 
lovers.  While  all  others  pressed  forward  about  them,  Fas- 

347 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

trada  alone  drew  back,  cold  and  silent,  and  with  another 
look  than  friendliness  in  her  narrow-lidded  gaze. 

Deft  hands  had  already  lashed  together  spear-shafts 
and  branches  for  litters  to  bear  the  women ;  and  now  Hilde- 
garde  and  the  two  maidens  were  placed  on  the  swaying 
seats.  Brawny  warriors  perched  the  king's  sons  on  their 
shoulders;  and  all  marched  away  through  the  whirling 
snow,  to  the  accompaniment  of  blaring  horns  and  the  wild 
shouts  of  the  vikings. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

An  ill  day,  an  ill  woman, 
And  most  ill  hap! 

LAY  OF  QUDRUN. 

EVER  had  Olvir  or  Rothada 
known  a  happier  winter.  As  be- 
trothed lovers  they  were  allowed 
much  greater  freedom  than 
would  otherwise  have  been  held 
seemly.  Hildegarde  often  in- 
vited the  Northman,  with  Gerold 
and  Liutrad,  to  her  bower,  and 
there  the  lovers  would  sit  by  the 
hour  in  a  quiet  window-nook, 
watching  the  games  of  the  king's  children.  Sometimes  the 
young  men  and  the  bower-maidens  joined  in  the  play,  and 
there  was  wild  merriment  in  the  bower.  At  other  times 
the  presence  of  the  king  restrained  the  roisterers  to  more 
sedate  amusements. 

But  Olvir  was  not  always  left  in  peace  with  his  be- 
trothed. The  many  churchmen  at  Thionville,  with  Alcuin 
at  their  head,  were  untiring  in  their  efforts  to  convince 
him  of  the  divine  right  of  the  Pope  and  Holy  Church. 
Over  and  over  again,  Olvir  stated  the  high  ideals  of  life 
which  he  had  gathered  from  the  Gospels  by  his  own  read- 
ing, but  the  pious  churchmen  had  no  ears  for  such  heresy. 
Who  so  sacrilegious  as  to  dispute  the  dogmas  of  the  wise 
and  holy  Augustine?  Even  Karl  was  puzzled  and  annoyed 
by  Olvir's  failure  to  accept  the  argument  of  "authority." 

349 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

But  though  Olvir  found  it  no  great  task  to  withstand 
the  priests,  his  position  was  not  so  easy  when  he  dame  to 
the  well-wishers  who  appealed  to  his  heart  instead  of  his 
head.  Hildegarde  had  masses  sung  for  his  conversion,  so 
great  was  her  concern.  Between  his  wish  to  gratify  both 
king  and  queen  and  his  desire  to  win  his  bride,  Olvir  came 
far  nearer  to  losing  the  struggle  than  through  any  arguing 
of  the  priests.  Yet  through  it  all  he  held  fast  to  his  first 
stand,  even  at  the  times  when  Karl  himself,  roused  by  the 
failures  of  his  churchmen,  took  part  in  the  dispute  and 
sought  to  sweep  away  the  defences  of  the  Northman  by 
the  sheer  force  of  his  giant  will. 

So  the  winter  months  slipped  by,  and  at  last  in  sunny 
nooks  the  earth  began  to  peer  through  the  holes  in  its 
white  coverlet.  Then  the  Moselle  burst  its  fetters  and 
rolled  free  in  the  sunshine,  while  Ostara  of  the  Saxons 
came  sauntering  up  from  the  Southlands,  blowing  open 
the  leaf-buds  with  her  fragrant  breath  and  strewing  be- 
hind her  a  trail  of  early  blossoms. 

Never  had  the  outer  conditions  of  the  land  seemed 
more  in  keeping  with  the  quiet  joy  and  peace  of  the  Pascal 
season.  The  plans  of  Alcuin  and  Karl  for  a  general  edu- 
cational movement  throughout  the  kingdom  were  well 
under  way,  and  gave  promise  of  speedy  fruition,  —  to  the 
glory  of  the  king  and  the  uplifting  of  his  subjects. 

Into  the  midst  of  this  peace  and  quiet  the  war-storm 
burst  from  the  Saxon  forests  without  forewarning.  On 
the  very  eve  of  Easter  Sunday,  a  messenger  from  Count 
Rudulf  came  riding  in  hot  haste,  with  word  that  Wittikind 
was  back  again  from  the  North,  followed  by  a  host  of 
Nordalbingians. 

Further  tidings  of  disaster  were  not  long  delayed. 
From  all  parts  of  Saxon  Land  messengers  came  flying,  with 
report  of  fire  and  sword,  bloodshed  and  sacrilege.  The 

350 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

wild  forest-folk,  Eastphalians,  Westphalians,  and  Engern, 
had  risen  to  a  man,  and,  under  the  leadership  of  Hessi 
and  Alf  and  Bruno,  were  rushing  to  join  the  standard  of 
the  indomitable  Wittikind.  Last  of  all  came  riders  from 
Teutoric,  Count  of  the  Frisian  Mark.  The  Frisians  were 
marching  eastwards  across  their  fenlands,  everywhere  slay- 
ing and  burning,  like  their  Saxon  kinsmen.  All  beyond 
the  Rhine,  from  Thuringia  to  the  North  Sea,  the  land  was 
aflame. 

Such  were  the  fearful  tidings  which  were  to  bring 
sorrow  to  many  a  Frankish  hearthside  and  shatter  the 
great  king's  fond  dream  of  peace.  Olvir's  forebodings  of 
what  Verden  should  bring  forth  had  been  verified  even 
more  fully  than  he  had  expected.  It  was  the  hour  of 
promise  for  Wittikind,  son  of  Wanekind.  All  the  inter- 
necine bitterness  and  jealousies  of  the  tribes  had  melted 
away  in  the  heat  of  their  common  fury  against  the  Frank. 
For  the  first  time  in  the  long  struggle,  the  utterly  free 
forest-dwellers  had  forgotten  the  narrow  boundaries  of 
their  shires,  and  placed  themselves  willingly  under  a  com- 
mon leader. 

Yet,  bitter  as  was  his  disappointment,  Karl  took  up 
the  renewal  of  the  war  with  unflinching  resolve  to  bend 
the  stiff-necked  heathen  to  his  will.  Riders  were  sent 
flying  with  the  arrow-bode  to  all  parts  of  the  kingdom, 
while  the  king  and  his  war-counts  set  about  the  planning 
of  a  campaign  in  the  North  greater  than  any  that  had  ever 
gone  before. 

By  the  end  of  April  the  first  of  the  war-levies  had 
gathered  at  Cologne,  where  they  were  to  be  joined  by  the 
king.  The  first  of  May  had  been  fixed  as  the  day  for  the 
start,  and  on  the  evening  before,  all  the  high  counts  sat 
down  to  a  farewell  supper  with  the  royal  family.  It  was 
only  the  king's  customary  meal  of  four  dishes  and  the  roast, 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


yet  the  occasion  gave  to  it  a  distinction  lacked  by  many  a 
state  feast. 

Among  the  greater  number  of  the  guests  the  talk  was 
all  of  the  coming  warfare,  —  of  the  long  marches  through 
the  forests  and  over  the  broad  heaths  of  Saxon  Land; 
of  possible  battles,  and  the  certain  speedy  overthrow  of 
Wittikind.  The  gay  Franks,  many  of  whom  were  to  find 
bloody  death-beds  under  the  Saxon  beeches  or  in  the 
yellow  gorse,  jested  away  the  fears  of  their  fair  bench- 
mates,  and  boasted  how  they  would  return,  covered  with 
glory  and  laden  with  the  loot  of  the  heathen. 

But  while  most  of  the  guests  spent  the  meal-time  in 
jests  and  boasting,  there  were  a  few  who  had  little  desire 
for  merriment.  Karl  himself,  though  far  other  than  dis- 
heartened that  he  was  on  the  eve  of  the  death-grapple 
with  the  fiercest  and  most  stubborn  of  his  many  foes,  was 
in  no  mood  for  gaiety.  Had  not  the  ravaging  of  the  Saxons 
been  enough  to  sober  his  thoughts,  there  were  rumors  of 
fresh  plots  against  him  at  the  court  of  Duke  Tassilo  of 
Bavaria,  while  old  Barnard,  his  uncle,  had  sent  word  from 
Italy  of  renewed  attempts  by  Adelchis  the  Lombard  to 
obtain  a  fleet  and  host  at  Constantinople  from  the  Empress 
Irene. 

But  the  king  was  affected  most  of  all  by  the  coming 
separation  from  his  wife  and  children.  Though  it  was  in- 
tended that  they  should  rejoin  him  in  Saxon  Land  so  soon 
as  the  full  gathering  of  the  Prankish  host  safeguarded  the 
mark  from  Saxon  raiders,  his  affection  would  not  suffer 
him  to  part  from  his  family  without  great  reluctance. 

Saddened  as  were  Karl  and  Hildegarde  by  the  thought 
of  parting,  their  grief  could  not  compare  with  that  of  Olvir 
and  his  little  princess.  Though  the  king  left  love  behind, 
before  him  he  saw  glory  and  power  ;  and  even  Hildegarde 
could  look  forward  with  pleasure  to  the  success  of  her  dear 

352 


"'Go,  Olvir ! '  muttered  the  king,  thickly;  'go — before 
I  forget  that  I  once  loved  you.'"       [Page 467 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

lord.  Olvir,  however,  in  leaving  love,  left  all  that  he  held 
dear.  The  expected  battles,  which  lured  on  so  many  others 
with  their  promise  of  blood-stained  honors,  meant  no  more 
to  him  than  an  unwilling  rendering  of  his  duty  to  the  king. 

"  God  grant,  dear  heart,  that  we  meet  the  Saxons  at 
once !  "  he  burst  out  after  a  long  silence.  "  A  single  great 
battle  may  shatter  their  war-earl's  power,  and  end  the 
bloody  strife.  With  Wittikind  crushed,  the  most  stub- 
born of  the  forest-folk  may  well  give  up  the  struggle  as 
hopeless." 

"  If  only  they  might  bend  to  our  Lord  Christ  without 
so  much  as  one  battle ! "  sighed  Rothada. 

"  If  only  they  might,  little  vala!  "  echoed  Olvir.  "  But 
the  best  we  can  look  for  is  a  pitched  battle,  and  the  more 
terrible  the  slaughter,  the  more  hope  for  peace  to  follow." 

"  That  is  a  fearful  saying,  Olvir!  " 

"  The  truth  of  sword-rule.  But  this  is  no  time,  dearest, 
to  fret  our  spirits  with  such  thoughts.  We  have  enough  to 
sadden  us  in  our  parting." 

"  Oh,  my  hero !  If  I  were  not  so  selfish,  I  would  seek 
to  lighten  your  heart.  But  I  sit  here,  heavy  with  sorrow, 
while  all  others  are  gay.  See ;  even  Fastrada  has  put  away 
her  brooding,  and  makes  merry  with  Gerold  and  the  pages, 
as  once  I  used  to  do." 

"  She  may  well  rejoice !  War  is  as  welcome  to  her  as 
to  my  vikings ;  and  no  doubt  she  is  merry  that  we  are  to 
be  parted." 

"  Dear  hero,  you  should  speak  evil  of  no  one." 

"  True,  sweetheart ;  I  should  not  judge  even  the  witch's 
daughter.  Yet  her  laughter  lacks  the  ring  of  that  which 
springs  from  a  kindly  heart.  Nor  do  I  like  the  manner  in 
which  she  looks  at  the  king." 

"  Surely,  Olvir,  you  misjudge  the  maiden.  All  during 
Lent  she  has  been  very  kind  and  gentle.  Look;  here  are 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

the  mushrooms  which  she  told  Pepin  and  Karl  to  gather 
for  our  mother." 

"  Loki,  —  a  Roman  dish !  Yet  the  act  was  to  be 
praised,"  admitted  Olvir,  and  he  stared  curiously  at  the 
salver  borne  past  by  one  of  the  pages.  "  I  see  it  was  not 
enough  of  honor  to  the  ugly  elf-stools  that  they  should  be 
gathered  by  a  king's  sons.  They  must  be  served  in  a 
golden  bowl  with  a  spoon  of  silver." 

"  Do  not  mock,  dear.  The  cook  is  from  Ravenna,  and 
very  skilled  in  his  art.  He  bakes  the  spoon  with  the  food, 
and  if  there  should  chance  to  be  any  poisonous  mushroom 
with  the  others,  he  knows  that  the  spoon  will  blacken." 

"  Better  trust  to  good  flesh  and  grain,  and  leave  such 
dishes  to  the  Romans  and  Greeks,"  rejoined  Olvir,  and  he 
turned  with  sudden  remembrance  to  his  neglected  trencher. 

But  his  appetite,  always  moderate,  was  soon  satisfied, 
and  he  was  turning  again  to  Rothada,  when,  startling  as  a 
thunderbolt  from  a  clear  sky,  the  king's  voice  broke  in  upon 
the  laughter  of  the  guests,  harsh  and  strained  with  alarm : 
"  Bring  water !  bring  water  quickly !  The  queen  is  ill ! 
Mother  of  God,  she  swoons ! " 

In  the  sudden  hush  which  followed,  all  heard  the  sibi- 
lant voice  of  Fastrada  echoing  the  king's  cry :  "  The  queen 
swoons !  Run,  fetch  the  leech !  —  Kosru,  the  leech !  " 

Then  all  at  the  table  sprang  up  together,  and  Liutrad 
and  Worad  rushed  away  in  search  of  the  Magian.  With 
his  own  hands  Karl  had  laid  his  queen  upon  the  dais. 
About  his  stooping  form  gathered  the  dames  and  maidens ; 
while  the  lords,  grave  and  silent  with  anxiety,  drew  to- 
gether at  the  far  end  of  the  hall.  Olvir  followed  Rothada 
to  the  outer  line  of  the  women ;  but  Gerold  alone  pushed 
in  through  their  midst. 

As  the  Swabian  knelt  beside  his  sister,  Liutrad  came 
thrusting  Kosru  before  him  into  the  hall.  The  Magian  was 

354 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

deathly  pale,  and  trembled  visibly  as  Liutrad  and  Worad 
bore  him  forward  between  them.  Yet  he  had  not  lost  his 
power  of  speech. 

"  Stay ! "  he  interposed  in  a  quavering  voice,  as,  at  a 
sign  from  the  king,  Fastrada  and  the  other  bower-maidens 
sought  to  raise  the  queen.  "  Stay,  maidens !  I  would  first 
learn  what  our  gracious  dame  has  eaten." 

"  What  we  have  all  eaten,"  replied  Karl,  quickly. 

"  But  more,  lord  king,"  called  out  Olvir.  "  How  of  the 
elf-stools?" 

"The  mushrooms!"  muttered  Gerold,  and  he  sprang 
up  to  point  out  the  little  golden  bowl,  still  on  the  board 
beside  his  sister's  trencher. 

Kosru  tottered  forward  and  clutched  the  bowl  in  his 
claw-like  fingers.  Breathlessly  the  onlookers  watched 
while  he  sniffed  at  the  shreds  in  the  bottom  of  the  dish 
and  placed  one  of  them  upon  his  tongue.  Almost  in- 
stantly he  spewed  it  out  again. 

"  Ahriman ! "  he  cried,  and  he  turned  to  the  king,  his 
face  a  sickly  yellow. 

"  Speak  out !  "  commanded  Karl,  sternly. 

"At/  I  feared  it,  lord  king.  Queen  Hildegarde  has 
eaten  poisonous  fungi." 

"  Yet  the  silver  was  untarnished.    I  saw  it  myself." 

"  But  listen,  lord  king,"  replied  the  leech,  so  huskily 
that  few  could  follow  his  words ;  "  the  test  is  not  cer- 
tain. There  is  a  most  deadly  fungus,  so  like  the  harmless 
kind  —  " 

"  Who  gathered  the  venomous  mess?  "  demanded  Karl, 
harshly. 

"  Your  two  eldest  sons,  sire,"  replied  Fastrada. 

"  King  of  Heaven!  "  The  great  Frank's  head  bent  for- 
ward, and  he  signed  to  the  bower-maidens :  "  Bear  her 
hence." 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Out  of  the  great  hall  and  through  the  long  corridors 
to  her  bower,  they  bore  the  swooning  queen.  The  guests, 
following  at  a  respectful  distance,  waited  without  the  door, 
where  they  could  soonest  hear  any  word  sent  out  from  the 
sick-chamber. 

Within  the  bower,  husband  and  brother  knelt  side  by 
side  at  the  foot  of  Hildegarde's  couch,  wrestling  in  ago- 
nized prayer;  while  around  them  the  maidens  and  tiring- 
women  stood  silently  weeping,  or,  at  the  bidding  of  the 
leech,  glided  hastily  about  in  the  service  of  their  beloved 
mistress. 

But  though  Kosru  made  trial  of  drug  after  drug,  all 
alike  failed  to  rouse  Hildegarde  from  her  death-like  stupor. 
Hour  by  hour  the  night  dragged  through  its  dreary  length, 
and  Kosru  began  to  shake  his  head. 

With  all  but  infinite  slowness,  the  grey  dawn  came 
stealing  in  upon  the  silent  watchers,  —  the  dawn  of  the 
last  day  that  Hildegarde,  the  beloved  queen,  should  abide 
with  her  dear  lord.  As  the  first  red  arrows  of  sunrise  shot 
up  the  eastern  sky,  Rothada  glided  out  from  the  bower  and 
came  to  place  her  hand  in  Olvir's.  Her  face  was  very  sad, 
and  tears  shone  in  the  violet  eyes. 

"  All  is  over !  "  murmured  Olvir,  in  a  broken  whisper. 
But  Rothada  shook  her  head. 

"  No,  no ;  she  still  breathes.  Yet  the  leech  has  given 
up  all  hope.  He  promises  only  to  rouse  her  before  the  end. 
He  has  already  given  the  drug.  I  come  to  call  Abbot  Ful- 
rad  for  the  last  offices  of  Holy  Church." 

Groans  of  despair  burst  from  the  lips  of  the  wait- 
ing liegeman;  but  Olvir  turned  silently,  and  went  with 
Rothada  to  the  chapel.  They  halted  in  the  doorway,  and 
gazed  out  over  the  kneeling  congregation  to  the  high  altar. 
There  was  no  need  of  word  or  sign.  Very  solemnly  Fulrad 
took  up  the  vessel  of  sacred  oil,  and  came  down  from  the 

356 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

chancel.  As  he  passed  from  among  them  the  soft-voiced 
choristers  sobbed  out  the  wailing  notes  of  the  Miserere,  and 
the  grief-stricken  congregation  prostrated  themselves  in 
hopeless  sorrow.  But  only  Rothada  and  Olvir  followed  the 
abbot  along  the  silent  passages  and  in  through  the  entrance 
to  the  bower. 

Within  the  sick-room  there  had  been  a  change.  Beside 
the  couch  were  gathered  all  the  king's  children,  and  Hilde- 
garde, very  faint,  but  fully  conscious,  was  taking  the  last 
farewell  of  her  dear  ones.  The  end  was  very  near. 

Fulrad  raised  his  tear-stained  face,  and  advanced,  with 
all  the  solemnity  of  his  office,  to  administer  the  last  rites 
of  Holy  Church.  Tremulous  but  clear,  his  voice  pro- 
nounced the  words  of  the  sacrament,  and  with  the  holy  oil 
he  anointed  the  head  and  hands  and  feet  of  the  dying  queen. 
Then,  the  holy  rite  ended,  he  turned  and  went  back  to  the 
chapel.  As  the  slow,  heavy  tread  of  his  sandals  died  away 
down  the  passage,  Karl  rose  up  and  signed  to  the  sobbing 
attendants. 

"  Let  all  go  out  but  those  of  kin,"  he  said. 

Obediently  the  maidens  and  women  took  a  last  look  at 
their  mistress,  and  crept  away  to  seek  comfort  for  their 
grief  in  the  chapel.  Behind  them  followed  Fastrada  and 
Kosru  the  leech,  with  downcast  eyes;  while  last  of  all 
came  Olvir,  his  dark  face  aglow  with  the  spiritual  light 
that  shone  in  the  eyes  of  Hildegarde.  He  paused  at  the 
door,  overcome  with  yearning  to  linger  inside ;  and  as  Fas- 
trada and  the  cowering  leech  glided  out  before  him,  his 
wish  was  answered  by  the  king :  "  Turn  again,  Olvir.  She 
speaks  your  name." 

In  a  moment  the  Northman  was  back  beside  Rothada. 
Hildegarde  had  kissed  her  own  children  for  the  last  time, 
and,  at  a  sign  from  Karl,  they  were  being  led  from  the 
bower.  She  now  turned  her  gaze  to  the  grief-stricken 


rs 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

figure  of  Pepin  Hunchback,  and  all  bent  forward  to  catch 
her  faintly  murmured  words :  "  Son  of  Himiltrude,  —  no 
less  my  son.  Cherish  him,  dear  lord ! " 

"  As  God  gives  me  wisdom,  beloved,"  answered  Karl. 

The  boy  bent  and  kissed  the  lips  of  the  gentle  dame 
who  had  been  to  him  as  his  own  mother;  then,  sobbing 
bitterly,  he  ran  from  the  bower.  In  his  place  knelt 
Rothada,  and  on  either  side  of  her  Gerold  and  Olvir. 
Already  Hildegarde's  mild  eyes  were  darkening;  but  she 
turned  her  gaze  to  the  three,  and  a  smile  shone  on  her 
pallid  cheeks. 

"  Gerold  —  brother,"  she  whispered,  "  God  has  blessed 
you.  Yours  shall  ever  be  a  life  of  honor.  Rothada  —  Olvir, 
my  daughter  —  my  son,  —  love  is  yours.  Be  happy,  as  I 
have  been  happy  with  my  dear  lord.  Karl  —  come  to 
me  —  " 

Silently  the  three  rose  and  gave  place  to  the  king. 
He  knelt  and  drew  his  beloved  into  his  great  arms,  and 
she  nestled  to  him  with  the  sigh  of  a  tired  child. 

Then  the  others  went  softly  out  of  the  bower,  and  left 
the  king  alone  with  his  dead. 


CHAPTER  XV 

All  the  field  with  the  blood  of  the  fighters 

Flowed,  from  whence  first  the  great 

Sun-star  of  morning-tide, 

Lamp  of  the  Lord  God, 

Lord  everlasting, 

Glode  over  earth,  till  the  glorious  creature 

Sunk  to  her  setting. 

BATTLE  OF  BRUNANBURH. 

ITH  all  the  solemn  pomp  of 
church  and  state  they  bore  the 
dead  queen  through  the  budding 
woods  to  Metz,  and  there  laid  her 
to  rest  in  the  crypt  of  the  great 
domchurch,  —  the  Basilica  of 
Saint  Arnulf  her  forefather.  The 
beggar  crouching  on  the  steps 
saw  the  great  king  pass  in  with 
bowed  head  and  fingers  tugging 
at  his  beard,  and  knew  that  there  is  a  grief  which  comes  to 
both  high  and  low,  which  enters  alike  palace  halls  and  the 
hovel  of  the  serf. 

But  deep  as  was  Karl's  sorrow,  once  that  he  had 
turned  away  from  the  tomb  of  his  beloved  queen,  he  set 
about  the  opening  of  the  Saxon  campaign  with  added  de- 
termination. Used  as  were  his  liegemen  to  the  tremendous 
energy  of  his  movements,  never  before  had  they  seen  him 
bend  all  to  his  will  with  such  resistless  force.  To  put  away 
the  anguish  of  his  grief,  he  threw  himself  headlong  into 
the  war-game,  and  welcomed  the  fresh  tidings  of  ravages 

359 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

which  served  to  inflame  his  wrath  against  the  forest- 
dwellers. 

He  did  not  return  to  the  ill-omened  villa,  but  moved 
the  court  direct  to  Mayence.  Leaving  there  the  royal  house- 
hold in  the  charge  of  Queen  Bertrada  his  mother,  who 
came  from  Saint  Denis  at  his  asking,  he  embarked  with  his 
war-counts  for  Cologne  in  Olvir's  long-ships. 

Yet  with  all  his  eagerness  to  meet  and  crush  the  harry- 
ing forest-wolves,  the  first  day  of  summer  found  him  en- 
camped at  the  Lippespring  with  but  thirty  thousand 
warriors,  —  only  a  few  more  than  those  with  whom  he  had 
set  out  from  Cologne.  The  greater  part  of  the  expected 
levies  had  been  delayed  by  lack  of  forage  and  by  the  all 
but  impassable  morasses  which  covered  the  land  during 
the  heavy  spring  rains. 

Far  from  damping  his  ardor,  however,  the  delay  and 
disappointment  had  served  only  to  harden  his  resolve  and 
call  out  his  energy.  Already  he  had  swept  across  the  mark 
from  the  Ems  to  the  Weser,  and  back  again  to  Paderborn, 
devastating  all  the  southern  shires  of  Westphalia.  Where 
he  had  passed,  the  Saxon  hamlets,  scattered  through  the 
vast  woods  and  on  the  broad  heaths,  were  left  as  heaps 
of  smouldering  ruins.  Their  defenders  lay  slain  among  the 
ashes;  while  all  others  of  their  inhabitants  whom  the 
Franks  could  take  thrall  —  man  and  woman  and  child  — 
were  being  dragged  away  to  exile  and  slavery  in  the  South. 

Had  the  forces  of  Wittikind  been  united,  even  so  great 
a  leader  as  Karl  could  not  have  thus  harried  the  land 
unchecked.  But  the  Frisians  were  yet  making  their  way 
around  the  north  of  the  Teutoburger  Wald,  and  Bruno 
and  Hessi  had  marched  with  their  tribesmen,  the  East- 
phalians  and  Engern,  to  foray  along  the  northern  borders 
of  Thuringia.  So,  with  only  his  Westphalians  and  Nord- 
albingians,  Wittikind,  no  less  wily  than  intrepid,  had  with- 

360 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


drawn  into  the  hills  which  form  the  southern  termination 
of  the  Teutoburger  Wald,  and  awaited  attack  near  where 
the  Roman  Varus  perished  with  his  legions.  Though  his 
host  was  smaller  than  the  Frank's,  it  held  the  vantage  of 
position. 

Before  he  learned  of  the  delayed  levies,  the  king  had 
sent  Olvir  into  Thuringia,  to  aid  Count  Rudulf  against 
the  harrying  Engern  and  Eastphalians.  But  when  the 
vikings  had  marched  clear  across  the  forest  land  to  the 
Saale,  they  found  that  the  Grey  Wolf  and  his  little  host 
of  five  thousand  Thuringians  had  gone  north  and  west 
into  Eastphalia,  worrying  the  rearguard  of  the  retreating 
Saxons. 

Eager  to  bring  word  to  the  king  before  Hessi  and 
Bruno  could  join  their  large  host  to  that  of  the  war-earl, 
Olvir  marched  straight  across  country  to  Paderborn.  But 
he  reached  the  Lippespring  with  even  his  iron  followers 
outspent,  only  to  learn  that  Karl  had  met  the  war-earl  on 
his  chosen  ground,  and  forced  the  passage  of  the  moun- 
tains. Stubbornly  as  the  Westphalians  and  their  Nordal- 
bingian  allies  had  fought,  the  Franks  had  driven  them  back 
through  their  sacred  forests,  and  wrested  the  holy  Burg 
of  Teu  from  their  grasp. 

Defeated  but  unrouted,  Wittikind  had  withdrawn  with 
his  host  along  the  farther  slope  of  the  mountains,  to  meet 
his  Frisian  allies  on  the  Haze  bank;  and  there,  upon  the 
arrival  of  his  belated  levies,  Karl  had  followed,  to  give  him 
battle  the  second  time. 

Such  were  the  tidings  that  were  poured  into  the  ears 
of  the  eager  sea-wolves  as  they  lay  panting  after  their 
long  chase.  Nor  had  they  rested  two  days  before  Count 
Gerold  came  racing  to  the  Lippespring  with  word  of  the 
first  great  battle  on  the  Haze  bank.  By  forced  marches, 
the  king  had  come  upon  the  Saxon  host  before  the  juncture 

361 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

of  Hessi  and  Bruno.  The  forest-dwellers,  surprised  in 
their  camp,  had  been  driven  across  the  Haze,  with  great 
slaughter.  But  the  outworn  Franks  were  unable  to  follow 
up  their  victory,  and  Karl,  learning  in  the  night  that  Hessi 
and  Bruno  were  about  to  join  the  war-earl,  at  once  set  to 
replacing  and  strengthening  the  broken  war-hedges  of  the 
captured  camp. 

The  immense  host  of  the  united  Saxons  now  outnum- 
bered the  Franks  by  ten  thousand  men.  The  Grey  Wolf 
had  not  yet  come  up  with  his  Thuringians  when  Gerold  left 
the  Haze,  and  his  whereabouts  were  unknown.  There  was 
pressing  need  for  every  man  who  could  swing  sword. 
But  Gerold  might  have  spared  himself  the  urging.  The 
vikings  were  wild  to  take  part  in  the  blood-game.  There 
were  no  laggards  when,  at  dawn,  Olvir  gave  the  word  to 
start. 

Freshened  by  their  rest,  they  swept  over  the  hills, 
past  the  Teutoburg  and  through  the  wooded  valley  country 
along  the  base  of  the  Teutoburger  Wald,  like  wolves  on  a 
blood-trail.  Even  horsemen  could  not  have  outdistanced 
them  on  that  first  day's  march.  Night  fell  upon  them,  but 
the  beams  of  the  rising  moon  glinted  on  the  bright  steel  of 
their  war-gear  as  they  trailed  across  the  open  glades.  When 
at  last  they  flung  themselves  down  among  the  alders,  to 
gnaw  at  their  cold  food  and  stretch  out  for  a  half-night's 
rest,  Gerold  sprang  from  his  horse,  with  the  welcome  call 
that  the  Frankish  camp  could  not  be  distant  over  three 
hours'  march. 

But  when,  at  dawn,  the  vikings  would  have  rushed 
on  swifter  than  ever,  Olvir  checked  them.  If  the  hosts 
had  again  joined  battle,  it  was  well  he  should  bring  his 
sea-wolves  into  the  field  unwearied.  So,  chafing  at  the 
restraint,  like  hounds  in  leash,  yet  bending  to  the  will  of 
their  earl,  the  vikings  swung  on  at  the  pace  he  set,  until 

362 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


through  the  oak  forest  there  came  rumbling  a  sound  like 
the  bellow  of  angry  bulls.  It  was  the  deep  battle-note  of 
the  Saxons,  roaring  in  the  hollow  of  their  shields. 

After  that,  Olvir  no  longer  thought  to  hold  his  fol- 
lowers. Silent,  but  with  eyes  gleaming  and  blades  bared, 
the  sea-wolves  broke  into  a  run,  and  charged  hotly  after 
Gerold  and  their  earl.  It  was  not  long  before  they  had 
burst  out  from  the  oak  forest  and  were  rushing  across  a 
stretch  of  yellow  gorse  toward  the  war-hedges  of  the 
Prankish  camp,  on  the  nearer  bank  of  the  Haze. 

A  belt  of  trees  shut  out  all  view  of  the  battle  which 
raged  on  the  farther  side  of  the  stream ;  but  above  the  dull 
rumble  of  the  Saxon  shield-roar  sounded  the  furious  shouts 
of  the  Franks,  the  harsh  braying  of  horns,  the  shrilling  of 
the  Saxon  fifes,  and  the  terrific  clash  of  shields  and  helmets 
struck  by  the  whirling  blades. 

The  Prankish  host  had  left  the  shelter  of  the  war- 
hedges  to  meet  the  Saxons  in  the  open  field;  but  the 
ghastly  heaps  of  Saxon  slain  which  half  choked  the  bed 
of  the  Haze  showed  that  the  Franks  had  not  been  the  first 
to  attempt  the  crossing. 

"  Look,  lad !  "  shouted  Olvir.  "  It  must  be  old  Rudulf 
has  come  before  us.  The  king  has  driven  back  the  attack- 
ing foe,  and  followed  after,  across  the  stream." 

"  If  such  has  —  Saint  Michael !  Who  are  those  come 
flying  from  the  field?  —  the  Neustrians !  God  grant  we  're 
not  too  late  —  " 

"  None  too  late  for  the  sword-play ! "  answered  the 
Northman,  his  nostrils  quivering,  and  then,  silent  as  his 
men,  he  led  the  way  past  the  Prankish  camp.  As  they 
skirted  the  war-hedges,  the  charging  warriors  were  greeted 
by  a  welcoming  hail  from  the  frightened  camp-followers 
within,  and  Pepin  Hunchback  came  racing  out  to  meet 
Olvir  and  Gerold. 

363 


I 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Turn  back,  king's  son !  We  go  into  battle,"  com- 
manded Gerold.  But  Pepin  urged  his  horse  close  in  beside 
Zora,  and  rode  along  with  Olvir. 

"  Hero,"  he  pleaded,  "  let  me  go  with  you.  My  father 
left  me  to  hold  the  camp.  What  place  is  that  for  a  king's 
son?  " 

"  Come,  then,  king's  son,"  answered  Olvir,  and  the 
boy's  face  flushed  with  joy.  Then  his  horse  leaped  with 
Zora  into  the  Haze,  and  close  after  dashed  the  vikings, 
panting  with  eagerness  for  the  blood-game.  As  they  floun- 
dered across  the  stream,  the  glimpse  which  they  caught 
of  the  retreating  Neustrians  down  the  bank  served  only 
to  whet  their  temper  the  keener. 

But  on  the  farther  side,  Olvir  wheeled  the  red  mare, 
and  sprang  to  the  ground. 

"  Hold,  men !  "  he  commanded.  "Form  wedge.  Afoot, 
Gerold.  You  '11  stand  behind  me  at  the  fore,  with  Floki  and 
Liutrad.  The  king's  son  rides  beside  the  '  Gleam '  —  stay ! 
he  himself  shall  bear  the  banner.  Put  Zora  and  the  count's 
horse  in  the  midst.  So ;  well  done !  Now  for  Odin's  game. 
Keep  close,  all.  When  my  wedge  strikes,  it  should  be  with 
the  weight  of  every  man  linked  to  his  fellows." 

"  Lead  on,  son  of  Thorbiorn ! "  croaked  Floki,  and 
the  men  burst  into  a  roar:  "Lead  on!  Lead  on,  ring- 
breaker!  HaoU" 

Al-hatif  glittered  above  the  sea-king's  head,  and  he 
sprang  about,  to  lead  his  band  at  a  half  run  through  the 
screening  coppice.  A  few  swift  strides,  and  he  burst  from 
the  thickets  into  full  view  of  the  battle.  Before  him  on  the 
trampled  gorse  heath  stretched  out  the  vast  disordered  mass 
of  the  battling  hosts,  locked  fast  in  the  death-grapple  and 
reeling  to  and  fro  with  the  stress  of  their  mighty  struggles. 

The  Saxon  warriors  —  Eastphalian,  Westphalian, 
Nordalbingian,  and  Engern  —  were  mingled  in  a  shape- 

364 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


less  horde,  which  sought  to  thrust  back  and  overthrow 
the  equally  disarrayed  mass  of  the  Prankish  footmen.  But 
to  the  left,  the  Frisians,  most  stubborn  of  all  fighters, 
stood  firm  in  orderly  array  against  the  ferocious  attack  of 
the  Grey  Wolf  and  his  Thuringians,  while  across  on  the 
far  side  of  the  battlefield,  where  the  left  wing  of  the  Saxons 
had  been  thrust  back,  could  be  seen  the  Prankish  horse, 
with  Karl  himself  in  command,  vainly  striving  to  break  the 
ranks  of  the  mail-clad  Danes  in  Wittikind's  shieldburg. 

Here  was  the  key  to  the  battle-scheme.  None  need 
tell  Olvir  where  to  strike.  The  first  glance  had  shown  him 
how  the  battle  went.  He  must  strike,  and  strike  quickly. 
Already  the  Franks  were  giving  back  before  the  Saxon 
wolf-horde,  and  even  as  the  vikings  burst  from  the  coppice 
after  their  leader,  from  the  willows  on  their  right  a  Prank- 
ish horn  sounded  the  retreat,  and  Count  Hardrat  came 
leaping  into  the  open,  to  fall  headlong  among  the  yellow 
gorse. 

Bewildered  and  dismayed  by  the  call  to  flight,  the  last 
ranks  of  the  Neustrians  wavered  and  broke,  and  the  yelling 
Saxons  leaped  forward  to  slay  the  fugitives.  But  at  sight 
of  the  band  of  mailed  warriors  who  came  charging  from  the 
thicket  not  a  spearthrow  distant,  they  halted  and  closed  up 
their  ranks  to  meet  the  coming  shock.  As  well  might  they 
have  thought  to  check  the  mad  rush  of  an  aurochs  herd. 
The  vikings,  though  still  locked  in  solid  ranks,  were  now 
charging  at  full  run. 

As  they  swept  down  upon  the  Saxons,  arrows  streamed 
from  their  midst  into  the  thick  of  the  enemy;  but  they 
cast  no  spears  until  their  leader  was  within  twenty  paces 
of  the  Saxon  line.  Then  at  last  Al-hatif  swung  up,  and 
a  deadly  flight  of  darts  and  javelins  whirred  into  the  dense 
mass  of  the  Saxons.  Pierced  through  their  half-mailed 
war-jerkins  of  wolf  and  boar  hide,  scores  of  the  forest-men 

36* 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


I 


fell  dead  or  wounded,  and  the  wedge  hurled  forward  to 
strike  the  line  where  weakened  by  their  fall. 

"  Thor  aid !  Thor  aid !  "  roared  out  the  viking  battle- 
shout,  and  then,  with  a  frightful  rending  crash,  the  wedge 
smashed  in  among  the  Saxons.  Fiercely  as  the  forest-men 
leaped  to  meet  the  attack,  they  were  like  children  before 
the  mailed  vikings,  who  numbered  in  their  midst  many 
of  the  most  famous  champions  of  the  North.  Through 
the  rift  opened  by  Olvir  and  Floki,  the  Northmen  followed 
hotly,  roaring  in  grim  delight  as  they  hewed  wider  the 
battle-path. 

To  the  very  heart  of  the  Saxon  host  the  wedge  charged 
without  a  check  in  its  terrible  course,  and  the  ground 
behind  it  was  covered  with  fallen  warriors.  Here  and  there 
a  steel-mailed  figure  lay  among  the  trampled  corpses,  but 
for  every  such  one  there  was  to  be  counted  a  dozen  of 
slain  Saxons.  Even  the  savage  Nordalbingians  were  ap- 
palled by  such  slaughter,  and  sought  to  give  way  before  the 
vikings,  thinking  that  they  would  swerve  and  pass  through 
to  the  Prankish  lines,  where  Worad  and  Amalwin  were 
bending  every  effort  to  hold  their  own.  But  the  Norse 
wedge  crashed  on  its  way  straight  for  the  rear  of  the 
Danish  shieldburg. 

A  few  more  brief  moments  of  bloody  slaughter,  and 
then  Northman  was  face  to  face  with  Northman.  Here 
was  no  longer  the  formless  horde  of  half-armed  berserks, 
to  be  hewn  down  like  cattle  by  the  viking  blades,  but 
Danes  trained  in  shieldburg  and  armed  like  their  assail- 
ants in  scale-hauberks  or  mail-serks. 

As  the  Danes  faced  about  to  meet  the  rear  attack, 
Olvir  thrust  forward  through  the  last  ranks  of  the  Saxons, 
smiling  like  a  guest  newly  come  to  the  feast.  Protected 
alike  against  point  and  edge  by  his  threefold  mail,  the  blue 
steel  of  his  helmet,  and  the  little  blade-glancing  shield,  he 

366 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


had  come  through  the  midst  of  the  Saxons  without  a 
wound. 

At  either  flank  of  their  earl,  Floki  and  Liutrad  swung 
their  great  weapons  with  unflagging  vigor.  At  every 
stroke  of  the  young  giant's  axe,  a  man  went  down,  cleft 
through  shield  and  helmet;  while  the  long-shafted  blade 
of  the  strutting  Crane  rose  and  fell  with  still  more  deadly 
effect.  Floki  did  not  strike  downwards,  but  whirled  his 
halberd  with  a  peculiar  backhanded  stroke,  as  erratic  as 
the  man's  nature. 

Unlike  their  earl,  neither  had  come  scatheless  from 
amongst  the  Saxons,  nor  had  Gerold.  The  young  Swabian 
was  gashed  in  the  shoulder  and  thigh  by  thrusting  spears, 
and  the  bell-like  rim  of  his  casque  had  been  broken  by 
a  sling-stone,  which,  had  it  been  aimed  a  handsbreadth 
lower,  would  have  beaten  in  his  face.  Liutrad's  serk  be- 
neath his  axe-arm  showed  a  long  rent,  where  a  sword  had 
bitten  through  to  the  bone,  —  the  blow  of  a  berserk-mad 
Nordalbingian.  But  the  look  of  Floki  was  most  terrible 
of  all.  His  cheek  had  been  laid  open  by  a  glancing  sword- 
stroke,  and  the  wound  gave  to  his  long  wry  face  an  aspect 
of  ghastly  grotesqueness.  As  yet,  however,  none  of  the 
three  felt  his  wounds,  and  all  alike  sprang  eagerly  after 
Olvir,  as  he  rushed  upon  the  Danish  shieldwall. 

"Het,  vikings,  follow!"  croaked  Floki.  "Leave  the 
cattle.  Here  are  men !  " 

"  Men  —  Danes  —  sons  of  Thor !  "  echoed  Olvir. 
"  After  me,  sea- wolves !  Here  are  players.  Hail,  Danes 
—  folk  of  Sigfrid!  Odin  calls  you!" 

"  Hail,  bairn !  Get  thee  to  Godheim !  "  shouted  a  Dane 
of  vast  girth,  and  he  leaped  forward  from  the  shieldburg 
to  meet  the  Norse  earl. 

"  Lead  me !  I  follow  —  in  good  time,"  rejoined  Olvir, 
tauntingly. 

367 


gyx       *$ 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  Dane  whirled  up  his  two-bladed  axe,  and  struck 
with  all  his  might.  Even  Olvir's  skill  could  not  have 
warded  such  a  blow.  It  was  a  shield-smashing  stroke, 
such  as  Liutrad  was  swinging.  But  it  whirled  down 
through  empty  air,  and  the  great  blade  buried  itself  deep 
in  the  turf.  Olvir  had  flung  himself  forward  beneath  the 
descending  weapon  and  on  past  the  massive  figure  of  the 
wielder.  As  he  darted  by,  Al-hatif  stabbed  up  beneath 
the  Dane's  shield.  The  champion  fell  groaning  upon  his 
axe.  Without  a  backward  glance,  Olvir  sprang  forward 
to  break  the  Danish  shieldwall.  Before  they  could  com- 
prehend his  deadly  mode  of  attack,  two  more  Danes  went 
down  from  the  blinding  stabs  of  Al-hatif,  and  then  Liutrad 
and  Gerold  and  Floki  were  again  at  his  back. 

On  one  side  a  little  space  had  been  left  clear  by  the 
opening  out  of  the  Saxons.  This  was  a  rare  chance  for  the 
sharp-eyed  Crane,  who  leaped  sideways,  and,  with  a  full- 
armed  sweep,  sent  his  halberd  whistling  low  among  the 
legs  of  the  foremost  Danes.  It  was  like  a  scythe  in  the 
wheat.  The  one  blow  crippled  in  its  sweep  no  less  than 
four  warriors,  whose  sudden  fall  left  a  gap  in  the  wall  of 
interlocked  shields.  Before  the  gap  could  be  closed,  Olvir 
had  leaped  into  the  opening,  and  was  putting  forth  his 
utmost  effort  to  pierce  the  second  rank  of  the  Danes. 

Close  at  his  shoulders  pressed  Liutrad  and  Gerold, 
while  Floki  stood  back  for  a  second  leg-shearing.  But, 
though  locked  so  closely  in  their  ranks  that  they  could 
not  leap  above  the  terrible  halberd,  the  Danes  were  too 
crafty  to  be  caught  as  at  first.  Three  or  four  instantly 
crouched  to  catch  the  stroke  on  their  shields,  and  one,  a 
skilled  swordsman,  thrust  out  his  blade  to  meet  the  haft 
of  the  halberd.  Neither  his  parry  nor  the  intervening 
shields  could  entirely  break  the  blow.  The  swordsman's 
blade  was  dashed  aside,  his  shield  shattered  into  fragments, 

368 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHR 

and  he  himself  hurled  back  among  his  fellows,  a 
corpse.  But  his  skill  was  not  without  avail  to  those  beside 
him.  The  halberd  shaft,  notched  by  his  sword-edge,  broke 
short  off  with  the  force  of  the  blow. 

"  Paul ! "  croaked  Floki,  and,  hurling  the  splintered 
shaft  into  the  midst  of  the  shieldburg,  he  drew  his  sword 
—  a  blade  half  a  span  longer  than  Ironbiter  and  little  less 
weighty.  He  sprang  forward  none  too  soon.  Gerold  had 
thrust  himself  in  the  way  of  a  stroke  aimed  from  the  side 
at  Olvir,  and  the  fierce  blow,  cleaving  through  his  shield, 
had  dinted  his  helmet,  and  sent  him  reeling  backwards, 
half-stunned. 

"  Way,  lad,  way !  "  growled  the  Northman.  Plucking 
the  Swabian  back,  he  leaped  upon  the  Danes  in  a  berserk 
rage. 

Closing  upon  their  leaders,  the  vikings  now  struck 
the  shieldburg  with  the  full  weight  of  their  charge,  and  the 
force  of  the  shock  drove  the  wedge's  point  well  into  the 
opening  cleft  by  Olvir  and  his  shoulder-mates.  Gerold, 
still  dazed,  was  dragged  back  beside  the  "  Gleam "  just 
in  time  to  see  young  Pepin  struck  down  by  a  sling-stone 
which  burst  the  lad's  helmet.  As  a  warrior  caught  the 
gold-starred  banner  from  the  opening  hand  of  the  king's 
son,  Gerold  gave  command  that  the  boy  be  lashed  to  his 
horse  and  taken  back  into  the  midst  of  the  wedge.  He 
himself  thrust  forward  again,  that  he  might  not  lose  his 
share  of  the  fighting.  He  found  the  wedge-leaders  steadily 
cutting  their  way  deeper  toward  the  heart  of  the  shield- 
burg. 

But  it  was  steel  biting  steel.  Once  the  impetus  of  the 
viking  charge  was  lost,  the  advance  became  very  slow. 
Even  at  the  wedge's  point,  the  movement,  though  sure, 
meant  for  every  step  gained  a  matter  of  fiercest  struggle. 
Olvir  and  Floki  yet  fought  as  at  first;  but  Liutrad,  for 


if 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


all  his  massive  young  strength,  was  glad  enough  for  a  time 
to  give  place  to  Gerold. 

If,  however,  the  viking  wedge  failed  to  burst  open 
the  shieldburg  at  once,  the  slaughter  they  had  wrought 
among  the  Saxons  and  their  presence  in  the  Danish  rear 
were  not  without  effect  on  both  friend  and  foe.  The  fleeing 
Neustrians  had  turned  again,  and  the  Saxons,  disconcerted 
by  the  viking  charge,  no  longer  pressed  so  fiercely  upon  the 
Franks,  who  immediately  followed  up  the  slight  show  of 
weakness  by  renewed  efforts  to  regain  their  lost  ground. 

With  the  attack  of  the  vikings,  Wittikind,  who  had 
been  trying  to  single  out  his  royal  opponent,  on  the  farther 
side  of  the  shieldburg,  quickly  heeded  the  greater  danger 
of  the  fresh  attack,  and  hastened  to  the  rear  to  aid  in 
checking  the  in-thrusting  wedge. 

Slowly  but  steadily,  Olvir  was  piercing  a  rift  for  his 
followers  into  the  steel  core  of  the  shieldburg,  when  the 
Danish  ranks  before  him  opened,  and  in  the  gap  towered 
up  the  terrible  figure  of  the  Saxon  war-earl.  He  had  time 
only  for  a  glimpse  of  the  Saxon's  bearded  face  and  glaring 
blue  eyes;  then  a  blade  more  ponderous  than  Ironbiter 
whirled  down  upon  him. 

Unable  to  avoid  the  blow,  Olvir  raised  his  shield  to 
meet  it.  Never  had  he  tilted  the  little  buckler  with  greater 
skill.  But  his  arm  was  somewhat  wearied,  and  the  Saxon 
struck  with  a  force  that  only  Otkar  Jotuntop  himself  might 
have  exceeded.  Though  the  blow  glanced  aside,  it  beat 
the  shield  down  upon  Olvir's  helmet  with  stunning  vio- 
lence. As  he  stood  there,  dazed  and  blinking,  Liutrad 
thrust  a  protecting  shield  above  his  head,  while  Gerold 
flung  himself  upon  the  Saxon.  As  the  Swabian  leaped, 
he  cut  fiercely  at  Wittikind's  neck.  But  the  Saxon  caught 
the  blow  on  his  sword,  and  as  Gerold's  shield  clashed  upon 
his  own,  he  hurled  the  leaper  backwards. 

370 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Tea  /  Tea  I "  he  roared,  and  he  whirled  his  great 
blade  to  cut  down  the  reeling  Swabian.  But  then  Liu- 
trad  swung  up  his  axe,  and  dealt  the  war-earl  a  crashing 
two-handed  blow.  Driven  by  all  the  massive  strength 
of  the  wielder,  the  heavy  blade  split  the  Saxon's  shield, 
and  sent  him  staggering  back  as  though  struck  by  Thor's 
hammer. 

Even  as  the  Danes  pressed  in  before  their  war-earl, 
their  close-set  ranks  heaved  and  staggered  with  the  force 
of  a  tremendous  shock  from  beyond.  The  Prankish  horse- 
men had  withdrawn  from  the  battle-line,  and,  led  by  the 
king  himself,  had  hurled  upon  the  shieldburg  in  a  charge 
more  impetuous  than  any  that  had  gone  before. 

Galloping  in  the  lead  of  his  heavy  horsemen,  Karl 
spurred  his  charger  full  against  the  wall  of  locked  shields. 
A  dozen  spear-points  glanced  from  his  shield  or  splintered 
upon  his  scale  hauberk.  Then  his  heavy  stallion  struck 
the  shieldwall  like  a  war-ram,  and  burst  through,  tramp- 
ling upon  the  overthrown  Danes.  From  all  sides  ready 
blades  were  brandished  to  cut  down  the  royal  leader.  But 
not  even  the  halberds  could  beat  through  the  king's  guard. 
His  grey  eyes  flamed  with  white  fire,  and  he  shouted  joy- 
fully, as  Ironbiter  swirled  down  to  right  and  left :  "  Heu  I 
heu  I  Christ  reigns !  Down  with  the  fiend-gods !  Follow 
me,  Franks ! " 

"  Heu  I  heu  I  Christ  and  king !  "  shouted  the  horse- 
men, and,  fired  by  the  example  of  their  leader,  they  burst 
through  the  Dane  wall  in  a  dozen  places.  In  a  twinkling, 
the  close  ranks  of  the  shieldburg  were  rent  asunder,  and 
Danes  and  Franks  were  mingled  in  a  wildly  furious 
struggle. 

Berserk-mad,  Wittikind  turned  again  from  the  North- 
men, and  rushed  to  meet  the  Frank  king  as  he  came  plung- 
ing through  the  heart  of  the  shieldburg. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  The  king!  "  he  roared;  "  about  him,  men!  " 

With  a  fierce  shout,  the  Danes  rallied  and  thrust  in 
behind  Karl  with  such  desperate  valor  that  he  was  cut  off 
from  the  horsemen,  with  scarce  a  dozen  followers.  At 
once  the  mailed  champions  closed  in  on  the  handful  of 
riders,  and  hewed  them  down  with  axe  and  halberd.  Karl 
alone  sat  his  saddle  when  the  Danish  ranks  opened,  and 
the  war-earl  came  leaping  for  his  vengeance.  The  first 
blow  of  his  sword  split  the  skull  of  the  king's  stallion, 
and  Karl  was  hurled  forward  at  the  feet  of  the  Saxon. 

In  the  fall,  the  hilt  of  Ironbiter,  slippery  with  blood, 
was  wrenched  from  his  grasp.  He  saw  Wittikind's  whirl- 
ing sword,  and  sprang  up  to  grip  him  fast  about  the 
body.  Unable  to  strike,  the  Saxon  in  turn  gripped  the 
king.  For  a  little,  the  Danes  held  back,  while  the  giant 
leaders  bent  and  strained  to  overthrow  one  another.  But 
the  Frank  had  the  vantage  of  the  hold.  A  bear  would  have 
smothered  in  that  hug.  Already  Wittikind's  face  was 
blackening,  when  a  Dane  sprang  in  and  struck  the  crowned 
helmet  of  the  king  with  his  war-hammer. 

Instantly  the  king's  grip  broke.  The  war-earl  thrust 
him  away,  and  he  fell  senseless  upon  the  bloody  ground. 
Half-smothered,  the  Saxon  stood  gasping,  unable  to  raise 
his  sword.  Then  he  was  plucked  aside  by  his  henchmen, 
as  Olvir  and  Floki  came  leaping  into  the  midst  and  thrust 
out  their  shields  to  guard  the  fallen  king. 

Back  to  back,  the  two  Northmen  stood  alone  in  the 
midst  of  the  Danes,  and  so  furiously  did  the  champions 
of  King  Sigfrid  press  upon  them,  that  even  Floki,  in  all 
his  many  battles,  had  never  been  put  to  such  straits  to 
hold  his  own.  Well  was  it  the  war-earl  yet  lacked  breath 
to  leap  upon  them.  While  he  stood  gasping,  Liutrad  and 
Gerold  burst  through,  at  the  head  of  the  wedge. 

Ground  mercilessly  between  the  Frankish  horsemen 
372 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


on  the  one  side  and  the  in-thrusting  wedge,  the  Danes  at 
last  drew  back  from  about  the  king,  and  sought  to  form 
another  shieldwall. 

"  They  break ! "  cried  Gerold,  and  springing  upon  a 
riderless  horse,  he  wheeled  about  in  the  lead  of  the  .horse- 
men. "  Hett  I  heu  I  Follow  me,  Franks !  Give  the  wolves 
no  time  to  turn !  " 

Rallying  to  the  call,  the  Franks  spurred  their  horses 
upon  the  disarrayed  ranks  of  the  Danes,  and  for  a  while 
all  Wittikind's  efforts  could  not  make  the  beaten  warriors 
stand  and  face  the  attack.  Luckily  for  them,  they  were  rid 
of  the  Norse  champions,  else  their  retreat  would  soon  have 
broken  into  a  rout.  But  Olvir  had  called  upon  his  sea- 
wolves  to  stand  while  he  .and  Liutrad  sought  to  restore 
the  king  to  consciousness. 

Fearful  of  the  worst,  the  two  stooped  over  the  great 
Frank,  and  were  chafing  his  wrists,  when  his  grey  eyes 
opened  in  a  fierce  stare,  and  he  sat  up,  to  grope  eagerly 
about. 

"  My  sword  —  Ironbiter !  "  he  muttered. 

"  Here,  sire,"  replied  Olvir,  and  he  thrust  the  gold 
hilt  into  the  king's  hand. 

"Good!    The  battle  —  " 

Floki  stepped  upon  a  slain  horse,  and  swept  the  wild 
battlefield  with  his  glance :  "  Yonder,  lord  king,  I  see 
Wittikind's  shieldburg.  The  Danes  have  faced  about,  and 
again  withstand  your  riders.  But  everywhere  the  Saxons 
give  ground  —  even  the  stubborn  Frisians !  " 

"  Saint  Michael !  we  win !  Why  do  your  wolves  stand 
idle,  Dane  hawk?  " 

"  We  wait  for  you,  lord  king,  and  the  Saxons  are  not 
minded  to  press  upon  us,"  replied  Olvir,  grimly.  "  Lead 
us  now  against  them,  king!  Heyaf  men;  lead  forward 
Count  Gerold's  horse." 

373 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  The  lad,  also,"  added  Floki.  "  How  does  the  king's 
son  fare?  " 

"  Look  for  yourself,  Crane,"  rejoined  the  viking  who 
led  forward  Gerold's  and  Pepin's  horses. 

The  luckless  boy,  who  had  been  lashed  fast  in  his 
saddle  by  the  vikings,  was  crouched  low  over  his  horse's 
withers,  and  his  delicate  face,  as  he  gazed  vacantly  about 
among  the  vikings,  was  white  and  drawn.  At  the  pitiable 
sight  Karl  leaped  up,  his  look  dark  with  chagrin. 

"  King  of  Heaven ! "  he  cried,  "  have  I  lived  to  see 
my  first-born  fear-stricken  —  my  son  a  coward?" 

"  Hold,  king !  "  broke  in  an  old  berserk,  with  generous 
boldness.  "  You  do  both  yourself  and  the  bairn  a  wrong. 
The  lad  's  now  witless.  Till  the  luckless  stone  struck  him 
down,  he  rode  beside  me,  blithe  of  heart  in  the  midst  of 
the  battle^din.  No  man  in  all  our  wedge  cast  a  dart  with 
truer  aim.  I  myself  saw  him  pierce  two  Saxons.  He's 
yet  witless." 

"  Thank  God !  "  exclaimed  Karl,  and  he  sprang  to  fling 
his  arm  about  the  boy.  "  Heed  me,  child  —  my  brave 
child !  Rouse  up  and  draw  sword  —  the  battle 's  not 
ended ! " 

But  Pepin  stared  vacantly  into  the  glowing  face  of  his 
father,  and  pointed  to  the  blood-reddened  figures  of  the 
vikings  with  a  foolish  smile.  "  They  that  are  clothed  in 
scarlet  dwell  in  king's  houses  —  clothed  in  scarlet  —  scar- 
let and  crimson,"  he  babbled. 

"  Mother  of  God ! "  muttered  Karl,  and  his  eyes  fell 
before  the  meaningless  stare  of  the  boy.  But  then  Olvir 
sprang  forward,  his  face  pale,  and  his  brows  meeting  in 
a  stern  frown. 

"  Here 's  a  horse,  king,"  he  said  almost  harshly, 
"  Mount,  and  lead  us  on  again." 

"But  the  lad  — " 
_ 374 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  Liutrad  shall  take  him  in  charge.     We  can 
more  for  him  till  this  scarlet  play  is  ended." 

"  Scarlet  play  —  you  speak  truth,  Dane  hawk !  But 
see!  Ho,  Christ  triumphs!  My  Grey  Wolf  rends  his  way 
into  the  midst  of  the  fen-dwellers.  They  break  —  the  host 
itself !  Ho,  sea-wolves,  after  me  —  after  me,  and  burst  the 
Danish  shieldwall!" 

With  a  shout  that  rolled  out  above  all  the  wild  din 
and  uproar,  the  vikings  closed  their  ranks  again  in  wedge, 
and  wheeled  to  follow  their  crowned  leader  into  the  thick 
of  the  withdrawing  Saxons. 

As  yet  only  half  beaten,  the  forest-wolves  were  giving 
ground  with  stubborn  slowness,  and  Wittikind  was  seek- 
ing to  swing  his  shieldburg  around,  that  he  might  shake 
off  the  horsemen  and  rally  the  tribes  in  a  last  furious 
charge  upon  the  Prankish  footmen.  Even  yet  the  tide  of 
battle  might  have  been  turned  against  the  Franks. 

But  then  the  viking  wedge  crashed  into  the  heart  of 
the  Saxon  host  from  the  one  side,  while  from  the  other 
came  sweeping  a  torrent  of  routed  Frisians,  old  Rudulf 
and  his  grey-armored  warriors  raging  in  their  midst.  The 
yells  of  the  fen-dwellers  quavered  with  superstitious  dread : 
"  The  werwolf !  —  the  werwolf !  Fly,  Saxons !  —  Fenir  's 
free!" 

Thousands  of  voices  caught  up  the  despairing  cry, 
and  the  whole  Saxon  host  faced  about  and  broke  into  utter 
rout.  Wild  with  fear,  they  swept  across  the  bloody  bat- 
tlefield in  a  whirling  flood  that  all  but  overwhelmed  the 
vikings.  Like  a  ship  adrift  among  the  storm-waves,  the 
wedge  was  carried  along  in  the  midst  of  the  flying  thou- 
sands, clear  to  the  farthermost  edge  of  the  battlefield. 
There,  at  last,  they  made  a  stand,  and  the  horsemen  came 
plunging  through  the  flood  to  join  their  royal  leader. 

As  Gerold  rode  up  at  their  head,  Karl  signed  to  him: 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Plant  the  standard;  send  the  horsemen  on.  To  my  sidel 
I  reel  with  blood-loss." 

Again  the  vikings  gathered  about  the  king,  while  the 
horsemen  joined  the  fierce  pursuit  of  the  Saxons.  But 
hardly  had  Gerold  and  Liutrad  bound  up  his  wounds, 
when  the  last  of  the  flying  host  came  rushing  past,  inter- 
mingled with  the  Prankish  footmen. 

"Ho,  lord  king!"  called  Olvir.  "My  wolves  strain 
at  the  leash.  Bid  us  go.  Yonder  comes  Amalwin.  Let 
him  guard  the  standard.  It  cannot  be  he  thirsts  to  slay  his 
fleeing  countrymen." 

"  Go,  then.  But  leave  my  luckless  Pepin  and  these 
bold  lads  —  " 

"  I  'm  spent  —  I  stay !  "  gasped  Liutrad. 

"I  go.  My  wounds  are  stanched,"  said  Gerold,  and 
as  Olvir  sprang  upon  Zora,  the  Swabian  mounted  his  own 
horse  little  less  nimbly. 


376 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Many  a  man  is  brave 

Who  still  does  not  thrust  the  blade 

Into  another  man's  heart. 

LAY  OP  REGIN. 

HE  sun  was  far  down  the  west- 
ern sky  when  the  vikings  swung 
away  from  the  corpse-strewn 
battlefield  and  joined  the  fierce 
chase  of  the  broken  host.  Al- 
ready the  foremost  of  the  pur- 
sued and  the  pursuers  were 
beyond  view,  and  for  a  time 
the  Northmen  followed  after 
the  scattering  Saxon  bands,  in 

vain  search  for  Wittikind  and  his  Danes. 

But  at  last,  off  to  the  northward,  Olvir  caught  sight 

of  a  distant  glimmering  along  the  skyline,  and  he  had  no 

need  to  look  twice  to  know  that  it  was  the  last  rays  of 

the  sunlight  glinting  on  burnished  steel. 

"Look,  lad,  our  quarry!"  he  called  to  Gerold.    "No 

Saxon  war-gear  would  gleam  so  bright." 

"Wittikind  and  his  Danes!"  cried  Gerold.     "Saint 

Michael  —  this  has  been  a  glorious  day!    Let  us  but  kill 

their  earl,  and  the  war  is  at  an  end ! " 

After  this,  those  of  the  Saxons  who  turned  aside  out  of 

the  way  of  the  vikings  were  safe  from  their  dreaded  blades. 

The  sea-wolves  were  on  the  trail  of  bigger  game.     Yet 

swift  as  was  their  pursuit,  night  fell,  and  they  had  not 

37: 


m* 

& 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

overtaken  the  Danes.  Coming  to  a  little  brook,  they 
halted  to  bathe  their  wounds  in  the  cool  stream  and  to 
eat  the  last  fragments  of  the  coarse  fare  which  they  had 
brought  from  the  Lippespring. 

When,  after  a  little,  they  clamored  to  be  led  on  again, 
Gerold  spoke  of  a  stronghold  to  which  the  war-earl  might 
be  fleeing,  and  at  Olvir's  assent,  guided  the  band  by  moon- 
light on  that  blind  trail.  But  the  moon  at  last  set  and  left 
them  in  darkness,  without  view  of  their  quarry.  It  was 
well,  for  even  their  iron  strength  was  broken.  Many  had 
lagged  behind  in  the  last  hour's  march. 

Yet  at  dawn,  stiff  from  their  wounds  and  half  fam- 
ished, they  gathered  about  their  earl,  and  called  upon 
him  to  lead  them  on  across  the  woodlands. 

When  at  last,  bursting  out  on  the  edge  of  a  broad 
meadow,  the  vikings  sighted  the  Danes  fording  a  little 
stream,  they  uttered  a  roar,  and  rushed  forward  to  close 
with  the  foe.  But  even  Gerold  and  Floki  were  left  far 
behind  by  Olvir,  who  raced  ahead  on  Zora  as  though  to 
ride  down  singly  the  whole  Danish  band.  His  followers 
were  nearly  a  bow-shot  to  the  rear  when  he  drew  rein  just 
beyond  sweep  of  the  Danish  swords. 

The  greater  number  of  the  Danes  were  already  across 
the  stream;  but  a  few  of  the  more  resolute  had  halted  to 
hold  the  passage  against  the  pursuers.  Olvir,  however, 
stared  over  the  heads  of  the  desperate  champions,  to  the 
little  islet  upon  which  Wittikind,  striding  up  out  of  the 
water,  had  paused  to  glance  back  at  the  Norse  wedge. 
As  the  Saxon's  eye  fell  upon  the  viking  earl,  the  latter 
raised  his  hand,  and  sent  a  challenge  ringing  over  the 
stream. 

"  Ho,  hero !  "  he  shouted ;  "  stand  and  wait  —  I  would 
meet  you  in  single  fight." 

"Faul  seize  you,  dog  of  the  Frank!"  retorted  the 
378 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


Saxon.  "Am  I  a  witling  to  linger  while  your  bloody 
wolves  come  up?" 

"  Listen,  son  of  Wanekind,"  said  Olvir,  very  ear- 
nestly. "  Odin  bear  witness  —  I  swear  that  no  man  in 
my  following  shall  cross  the  stream,  if  you  fight  with 
me.  Let  these  men  follow  over  to  their  mates.  Mine 
will  stand  here." 

"And  if  you  fall,  bairn?" 

"  My  pledge  shall  hold  good  nevertheless.  But  if  you 
falter  and  fail  to  meet  me,  I  shall  name  you  nithing  from 
Rhine  Stream  to  Trondheim  Fiord." 

"  Teal  It  is  a  bold  cockerel! "  cried  Wittikind.  But 
the  flush  which  reddened  his  bearded  cheek  showed  that 
the  taunt  had  gone  home.  Only  blood  could  wipe  out 
that  threat  of  coward-naming.  He  signed  impatiently  to 
the  Danish  rearguard. 

"  Across,  men !  "  he  shouted.  "  I  '11  soon  trim  the 
comb  of  this  loud-crowing  cock,  and  then  we  shall  see  how 
the  sons  of  Thor  keep  faith." 

Olvir  smiled,  well  pleased,  and,  as  the  Danes  sprang 
into  the  stream,  he  turned  about,  with  upraised  hand,  to 
check  the  wild  charge  of  his  vikings. 

"  Hold,  men !  "  he  called.  "  I  meet  the  war-earl  singly. 
Whether  scathe  come  to  me  or  to  him,  none  among  you 
shall  cross  over  the  stream." 

"  How,  Olvir?  "  demanded  Gerold.  "  Would  you  then 
let  the  Danes  escape  us?  " 

"  My  word  is  pledged ;  the  Danes  go  free.  As  to  the 
war-earl,  it  is  as  it  was  with  that  traitor  Hroar." 

"  You  would  trust  everything  to  your  own  sword, 
Olvir;  and  yet  the  war-earl  all  but  struck  you  down." 

"  In  the  press  of  the  battle,"  answered  Floki,  sharply. 
"  Here  the  ring-breaker  will  have  room  to  avoid  the 
Saxon's  sword." 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  I  have  given  my  word.  See  that  you  keep  it,"  added 
Olvir,  and,  leaping  from  Zora,  he  advanced  out  into  the 
water. 

Wittikind  calmly  awaited  the  attack,  leaning  upon 
the  hilt  of  his  terrible  longsword.  There  was  no  feeling 
visible  in  his  bearded  face,  but  his  blue  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  the  Northman  in  a  vengeful  look.  Had  it  not  been 
for  the  Norse  wedge,  the  battle  would  have  surely  gone 
against  the  hated  Franks  before  Rudulf,  that  werwolf 
Thuringian,  could  break  the  Frisians. 

With  a  rush,  Olvir  passed,  waist-deep,  across  the 
narrow  channel,  and  sprang  out  upon  the  lower  end  of  the 
islet.  Between  him  and  the  Saxon  lay  a  level  stretch  of 
sedge-grown  sand,  a  dozen  paces  wide  and  twice  as  long. 
With  the  water  still  dripping  from  the  border  of  his  mail- 
serk,  Olvir  advanced  quietly  upon  his  great  enemy.  Witti- 
kind swung  up  his  sword,  and  stepped  forward  to  meet  the 
Northman. 

"  Come,  bairn,  come !  "  he  jeered.  "  We  linger  too 
long.  I  would  make  an  end  of  the  matter,  and  be  gone." 

"The  gerfalcon  strikes  the  stork!"  retorted  Olvir, 
and  he  ran  in  upon  the  war-earl  so  closely  that  his  little 
steel  shield  clashed  upon  the  spiked  boss  of  the  Saxon's 
linden-wood  buckler.  Down  came  the  longsword  with  a 
vicious  swirl,  —  a  stroke  that  few  among  the  greatest 
champions  might  have  warded.  Olvir  made  no  attempt 
to  meet  it.  Wide  as  was  the  blade's  sweep,  he  sprang 
back  into  safety  as  the  blow  fell. 

Gerold  and  the  vikings  shouted  in  approval  of  the 
adroit  play;  but  the  Danes  laughed  and  called  out  jeer- 
ingly:  "Stay  a  little,  dogs  of  the  Franks!  Wait  till  the 
hero's  blood  warms !  " 

"The  more  freely  will  it  flow!"  croaked  back  Floki 
the  Crane,  and  the  vikings  laughed  in  turn. 
380 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


Then  all  on  either  bank  stood  staring  in  silence  at 
the  oddly  matched  swordsmen.  Olvir,  lithe  and  active  as 
a  panther,  was  circling  round  and  round  his  foe,  every 
nerve  and  thew  and  sinew  tense  to  take  him  unawares. 
For  a  while  he  was  content  to  spring  in  and  out,  avoiding 
the  terrible  sweep  of  the  war-earl's  sword.  Once  his  op- 
ponent had  wearied,  he  would  lay  himself  open  sooner  or 
later  to  a  disabling  thrust  from  Al-hatif. 

But  the  Westphalian  was  not  easily  wearied.  Far 
from  flagging,  his  blows  fell  with  steadily  increasing 
quickness  and  force.  The  hero's  blood  was  warming,  as 
the  scoffing  Danes  had  foretold.  He  no  longer  stood  in 
one  spot,  wheeling  to  face  the  attack  of  the  Northman, 
but  began  to  press  upon  him,  in  a  fierce  attempt  to  pen 
him  into  a  corner  of  the  islet,  and  make  an  end.  Even 
when  he  stood  over  the  king  Olvir  had  not  been  so  hard 
pressed.  The  Saxon's  attack  combined  all  the  savage  fury 
of  a  berserk  in  the  rage  with  the  cold  craft  of  a  host-leader. 

Twice  Olvir's  leaps  barely  saved  him  from  the  scythe- 
like  leg-blows  of  the  great  blade,  and  once,  as  he  dropped 
beneath  a  backhanded  sweep,  the  keen  edge  shore  a  lock 
from  his  hair.  Nothing  daunted,  however,  by  the  swirl 
of  the  longsword,  his  black  eyes  sparkled  and  wild  joy 
filled  his  heart.  Difficult  as  it  was  to  avoid  Wittikind's 
fierce  rushes,  he  leaped  and  thrust  and  darted  from  side 
to  side,  always  just  a  hairbreadth  ahead  of  destruction, 
without  a  thought  of  fear  or  weakness.  Had  he  given  way 
to  either,  though  only  for  a  single  instant,  death  would 
surely  have  overtaken  him.  But  always  the  great  blade 
whirled  through  empty  air,  and  the  elf  leaped  unharmed 
about  the  furious  giant. 

Twice  Olvir  had  retreated  from  end  to  end  of  the 
islet,  and  for  the  third  time  was  giving  back  before  the 
war-earl's  savage  rushes,  when  suddenly  his  eyes  sparkled 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

with  a  new  purpose.  Smiling  as  one  who  greets  a  friend, 
he  sprang  aside  to  avoid  the  down-whirling  longsword, 
and  then,  heedless  of  the  return  stroke,  stepped  forward 
to  aim  a  swift  blow  at  the  Saxon's  sword-arm.  The  utmost 
of  his  skill  and  sinewy  strength  was  behind  the  stroke.  It 
fell  upon  the  massive  forearm  midway  above  the  wrist,  and 
the  Danish  mail  parted  like  cloth  beneath  the  edge  of  Al- 
hatif.  Through  steel  and  flesh  and  tendon,  the  Damascus 
blade  shore  its  way,  until  it  gritted  on  the  very  bone. 
Wittikind's  sword  fell  to  the  ground. 

The  fight  was  won.  The  war-earl  of  all  the  Saxons 
stood  before  the  slender  Northman,  helpless.  Olvir  had 
only  to  raise  his  sword  and  strike  another  blow,  and  the 
son  of  Wanekind  would  have  met  his  fate. 

The  Saxon  lowered  his  shield,  and  stood  waiting  for 
the  death-stroke,  his  broad  chest  still  heaving  with  the 
violence  of  his  exertions,  but  his  face  suddenly  stilled 
from  anger  to  calm  scorn. 

"Strike  —  strike,  and  have  done  with  your  shame, 
false  son  of  Odin ! "  he  called  in  a  deep  voice.  "  But  for 
you  this  day  the  free  Saxons  should  have  rid  themselves 
of  the  Frank.  You,  a  Northman,  false  to  your  folk  and 
your  gods,  have  set  the  heel  of  a  king  upon  the  necks  of 
a  free  people.  It  is  fit  that  you  should  slay  the  leader  of 
a  broken  host.  Strike  quickly,  else  Thor  will  smite  you 
with  his  hammer." 

But  Olvir  stepped  back,  and  met  the  scornful  look  of 
the  Saxon  with  a  grave  smile. 

"  Hear  me,  son  of  Wanekind! "  he  rejoined.  "  In  the 
North  we  listen  to  witness  on  both  sides  before  the  doom- 
ing. You  have  yet  to  learn  what  is  in  my  mind." 

"  I  had  rather  talk  with  Odin !  We  of  the  forest  have 
but  one  tongue  with  which  to  speak  to  traitors;  it  is  of 
steel." 

382 


5CSSWS 


MMMMHMHMMi 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"Wittikind  is  dogwise,"  replied  Olvir,  and  he  raised 
Al-hatif  to  thrust  the  blade  into  its  sheath.  "Here  is  my 
answer  to  the  taunts  of  the  war-earl.  Odin  bids  us  slay 
our  foe  by  guile  or  by  force;  but,  in  the  name  of  the 
White  Christ,  I  now  tell  you  to  go  free." 

"  Teu  I  Is  it  not  enough  shame  that  a  viking  should 
sell  his  sword?  Must  he  mock  an  unarmed  foe?" 

"  Odin  bear  witness  —  the  son  of  Wanekind  is  free." 

Wittikind  stared  down  intently  into  the  grave,  almost 
solemn  face  of  the  Northman,  and  his  look  softened. 

"How  is  this,  viking?"  he  demanded.  "Would 
you  undo  the  scathe  you  have  wrought  upon  my  forest- 
folk?" 

"  The  blood  of  your  warriors  brings  me  no  joy,  hero. 
Yet  I  am  the  man  of  Pepin's  son,  and  so  must  do  his 
bidding.  A  year  since  I  should  have  broken  the  bond, 
had  not  Karl  shown  to  me  the  need  for  this  bloody  war. 
Many  could  tell  you  what  little  love  I  bear  the  Christian 
priests,  and  I  am  not  one  to  rejoice  at  the  growing  serfdom 
among  the  Franks;  yet  I  see  that  both  Frank  priest  and 
Frank  king  would  bring  to  your  land  more  than  they  would 
take  away,  —  your  boasted  freedom  is  the  freedom  of  the 
wolf-pack,  without  order  or  true  bond.  This  bitter  day  has 
proved  that  all  the  forces  of  your  forest  tribes  cannot  hope 
to  check  the  power  of  the  Frank.  Why,  then,  drag  on  with 
a  hopeless  war?  —  why  bring  upon  your  land  fire  and  steel 
and  famine?" 

"  I  would  rather  choose  death  than  thraldom,"  re- 
joined Wittikind. 

"  Who  speaks  for  thraldom?  For  a  time  there  would 
be  a  double  yoke  on  the  necks  of  your  people;  but  the 
son  of  Pepin  will  not  reign  for  all  time,  and  who  so  dog- 
wise  as  to  hold  that  one  as  mighty  as  he  will  sit  in 
the  high-seat  after  he  has  gone?  I  foresee  that  the  yoke 

383 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


of  kingship  will  then  be  light,  and  the  Saxon  folk  can 
choose  for  themselves  whether  they  will  any  longer  bear 
the  yoke  of  the  priests." 

"  So  —  now  I  see.  I  am  to  go  free,  if  I  will  sell  my 
folk  into  thraldom." 

Olvir's  face  clouded. 

"  You  do  not  understand,"  he  replied.  "  Christ  grant 
that  wisdom  may  come  to  you!  Now  go.  Your  wound 
bleeds.  Yet  one  more  word.  Bear  in  mind,  should  you 
ever  wish  to  treat  with  Karl,  I  stand  pledged  as  hostage 
for  your  safety." 

Without  a  word,  the  Saxon  turned  away  across  the 
islet.  But  at  the  water's  edge  he  wheeled  and  came 
striding  back. 

"  Listen,  viking,"  he  said.  "  I  have  misjudged  you. 
Though  you  fight  for  the  bloody  Frank,  I  must  own  that 
at  heart  you  are  a  true  man.  May  the  Allfather  soon  lead 
you  back  to  your  own !  " 

"  Rather,  may  the  White  Christ,  to  whom  I  bend  knee, 
—  I,  who  despise  the  Christian  priests,  —  may  He  bring 
you  to  the  joy  and  freedom  of  His  love ! " 

"  His  priests  have  brought  us  nothing  but  a  clamoring 
for  tithes  and  the  sword  of  their  king.  I  am  content  with 
the  gods  of  my  fathers.  Again  I  say,  may  you  soon  re- 
turn to  your  own  folk  and  the  old  gods  of  the  North.  I 
could  wish  you  no  better  fortune." 

"  I  pray  that  wisdom  come  to  you,  hero,  before  more 
blood  is  spilt,"  replied  Olvir,  earnestly.  For  a  moment 
after  the  Saxon  turned  away,  he  stood  gazing  at  him; 
then  he  also  turned  and  plunged  into  the  stream. 

Midway  across  the  narrow  channel  Gerold  came  riding 
to  meet  him,  amazed  and  angry. 

"  Ho,  Olvir !  "  he  cried ;  "  you  're  mad,  stark  mad,  to 
set  the  Saxon  free!  A  stroke  would  have  put  an  end  to 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

him  and  his  evil  plots.  At  the  least,  he  should  be  brought 
thrall  to  the  king.  Turn  back!  There 's  yet  time  to  take 
him  —  " 

"  No,  lad.  Draw  rein.  My  word  is  pledged  —  Witti- 
kind  is  free." 

"You're  mad!  —  mad!  What  will  the  king  say? 
There'll  be  no  bounds  to  his  anger!  We  must  tell  him 
nothing  of  this." 

"  The  king  shall  know  all,"  replied  Olvir,  and  he  waded 
on  across  to  his  waiting  band. 

When,  late  in  the  afternoon,  —  well  fed  from  the  loot 
of  a  farmstede,  but  very  weary,  —  the  Northmen  came 
dragging  back  across  the  borders  of  the  battlefield,  their 
earl  commanded  them  to  make  camp  and  gather  in  their 
dead  and  wounded.  He  himself  rode  on  with  Gerold,  over 
the  Haze  and  into  the  Prankish  camp.  The  Swabian's 
face  was  clouded  with  fear  for  his  friend;  but  Olvir  went 
to  the  meeting,  calm  almost  to  indifference. 

As  they  approached  the  royal  pavilion,  before  which 
a  group  of  war-counts  were  gathered  about  the  king, 
Olvir  was  astonished  to  perceive  in  their  midst  the  kindly 
face  of  Abbot  Fulrad.  He  saw  the  old  councillor  nod  and 
smile  at  him,  and  then  the  high  war-counts,  of  whom 
only  Rudulf  was  missing,  rushed  to  greet  him  and  Gerold. 
All  others  than  Amalwin  were  fairly  drunken  with  the 
wine  of  victory. 

"Hail,  heroes!"  shouted  Worad.  "What  tidings  of 
the  beaten  wolves?  We  were  too  far  spent  to  follow  for 
long,  but  your  iron  vikings  — " 

"  Would  that  we  had  stopped  as  well,"  replied  Gerold, 
moodily. 

"How  then?"  demanded  Karl,  rising  from  a  heap  of 
furs.  "  Did  the  rebels  turn  and  beat  you  off?  Where  is 
Rudulf?  " 

25  385 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"Each  went  his  own  way,  lord  king,"  replied  Olvir, 
quietly.  "We  followed  the  Danes  —  " 

"  And  they  outran  you?  " 

"  No,  lord  king ;  we  overtook  them,  and  I  fought  with 
Wittikind." 

"And  won!"  shouted  Gerold. 

"  Where 's  the  rebel's  head?  "  rejoined  Count  Hardrat. 
"  Were  I  a  slayer,  his  skull  should  serve  me  for  mead- 
bowl.  Satan  seize  the  traitors!  They  all  but  broke  my 
own  skull  with  their  sling-stones." 

"  The  hero's  head  is  on  his  shoulders,  —  where  Count 
Hardrat  is  free  to  seek  it,"  said  Olvir,  coldly. 

"  Speak  out!  "  exclaimed  the  king.  "  You  fought  the 
Westphalian,  and  won;  yet  he  still  lives.  Do  you  then 
bring  him  back  in  thrall-bonds?" 

"  No,  sire.  When  the  hero's  sword  fell  from  his 
grasp,  I  spoke  with  him  a  little  while,  and  then  told  him 
to  go  free." 

"Free!    King  of  Heaven !" 

In  an  instant  the  king's  smiling  face  was  ablaze.  He 
sprang  up,  and  stood  towering  above  the  Northman  in 
speechless  anger,  his  hand  gripped  hard  on  the  hilt  of 
Ironbiter.  There  were  few  among  the  war-counts  who  did 
not  whiten  with  dread  as  they  saw  the  great  blade  half 
drawn  from  its  sheath. 

But  Olvir  stood  quietly  in  his  place,  and  faced  the 
king  with  a  look  of  calm  friendliness  that  bordered  on 
pity.  As  he  met  the  look,  Karl's  hand  fell  away  from  the 
sword-hilt,  and  he  turned  to  pace  across  the  front  of  the 
tent.  Twice  he  repeated  the  swift  movement,  and  when 
he  paused  to  again  face  the  Northman,  all  his  anger  was 
gone,  and  in  its  place  only  bewilderment. 

"  Lord  Christ!  "  he  muttered;  "  a  little  more,  and  I  'd 
have  struck  my  heart's  friend.  Ah,  Olvir,  why  try  me  so? 
386 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

You  were  mad  to  set  that  traitor  free,  —  him,  the  head  and 
front  of  all  the  heathen  cause ! " 

"  Is  there  then  no  end  to  what  you  would  ask  of  me, 
sire?  The  Saxon  reproached  me  as  the  one  who  had 
turned  his  victory  into  bitter  defeat.  Have  I  not  waded 
in  blood  for  you,  —  the  blood  of  my  brothers?  I  could 
not  strike  down  that  hero  when  he  stood  before  me  bare- 
handed, and  death  were  far  less  bitter  than  the  shame  of 
thraldom.  The  thought  came  to  me,  sire,  how  he  was 
a  brave  man,  fighting  for  his  country.  He  at  least  is  no 
forsworn  traitor,  however  many  of  his  fellows  may  be." 

"  You  forget  that  at  Casseneuil  you  placed  your  hands 
between  my  hands.  As  liegeman,  you  should  have  held 
my  service  above  all  else." 

"  Not  so,  lord  king.  I  own  to  a  service  above  your 
service, — the  will  of  Christ." 

"Was  it  His  will  to  free  that  heathen  duke,  who, 
more  than  any  other  man,  withstands  the  spreading  of  the 
Gospel?  " 

"  I  and  mine  have  slain  many  warriors  in  your  ser- 
vice, lord  king;  I  am  not  yet  Christian  enough  to  slay 
one  in  the  name  of  Christ." 

"  The  more  shame  to  own  it,  Dane,"  muttered  Hardrat. 
"But  for  what  else  could  one  look  from  a  heathen?" 

"  Curb  your  scoffing  tongue,  drunkard,"  commanded 
Karl.  "  Prudence  should  counsel  you  to  silence.  There 
are  those  who  say  that  the  false  horn  which,  in  the  midst 
of  the  battle,  called  your  Neustrians  to  retreat,  is  the 
horn  which  hangs  at  your  belt." 

"  It  is  a  lie,  lord  king !  —  a  foul  lie !    I  am  no  coward !  " 

"  I  know  that  well,  Thuringian ;  yet  I  have  known  of 
brave  traitors.  Enough.  You  will  return  to  your  shire 
when  Count  Rudulf  marches  homeward.  See  to  it  that 
neither  he  nor  the  missi  have  cause  to  report  drunkenness 
387 


I 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

or  ill  deeds  against  you,  if  you  do  not  wish  to  lose  your 
countship  as  well." 

As  the  Thuringian  shrank  back  before  the  stern  re- 
buke, Karl  turned  again  to  Olvir,  and  his  face  softened. 

"I  have  been  harsh,  lad.  I  even  failed  to  hear  you 
out.  You  said  that  you  talked  with  Wittikind  before  you 
set  him  free?" 

"  I  sought  to  show  him  the  hopelessness  of  this  bloody 
struggle,  and  to  win  him  over  to  surrender." 

"  But  he  would  not  listen?  " 

"  At  the  least,  I  stand  pledged  as  his  hostage,  should 
he  wish  to  treat  with  your  Majesty.  I  trust  that  I  have 
sown  seed  in  his  heart  that  in  the  end  will  bear  fruit." 

"  Ah,  Olvir,  were  it  not  for  your  pride  of  spirit,  I 
should  look  to  see  you  barter  sword  and  helmet  for  the 
cowled  robe,  as  have  more  than  one  of  my  war-counts. 
But  enough,  lad.  It  is  not  fair  to  keep  you  longer;  go 
within  the  tent." 


388 


CHAPTER  XVII 


A  may  of  all  mays  — 
Bright  in  bower. 

LAY  OF  GUDRUN. 

LVIR  caught  the  look  in  the 
king's  eyes,  and  hastened  to  the 
pavilion,  without  waiting  to  ask 
questions.  A  moment,  and  he 
had  darted  through  the  loose- 
hanging  curtains  of  the  entrance 
and  stood  staring  about  in  the 
gloom  of  the  great  canopy. 
Then,  almost  at  his  shoulder, 
there  came  a  cry  of  glad  sur- 
prise, and  Rothada  sprang  up  from  her  father's  couch, 
blushing  with  delight  and  sweet  confusion.  Wearied  by 
the  long  journey  from  the  Rhine,  she  had  lain  down  to 
rest  after  the  noon  meal  and  had  fallen  asleep. 

Before  the  little  princess  could  even  smooth  her  ruffled 
tresses,  Olvir  had  his  arm  about  her  shoulders  and  was 
bending  to  kiss  her.  At  first,  overcome  by  shyness,  she 
hid  her  face  upon  his  shoulder;  but  the  ring-mail  was 
cold  and  hard,  and  love  bade  her  look  up. 

"  So,  that  is  better,  darling,"  said  Olvir,  as  the  violet 
eyes,  beaming  with  love  and  happiness,  were  raised  to 
his  own.  "  Now  you  gaze  up  bravely,  like  a  true  king's 
daughter." 

"  Dear  hero !  Surely  I  should  be  a  little  brave,  when 
you  have  had  to  undergo  such  fearful  dangers  —  that 

389 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


terrible  battle!     I  shall  live  in  constant  dread  lest  next 
time  —  " 

"  Foolish  maiden !  Fear  slays  far  greater  numbers 
than  the  sword.  Where  is  your  faith  in  the  White  Christ? 
See  now;  He  has  given  us  this  great  happiness." 

"  It  is  hard  to  be  always  trusting,  Olvir.  But  you  re- 
new my  faith.  Here  is  joy  to  repay  me  for  my  dread." 

"  Sweet  joy,  sweetheart !  I  had  given  over  all  thought 
of  seeing  you  until  the  host  returned  Rhineward." 

"If  only  it  had  been  a  happier  cause  that  brought 
me!  Dame  Bertrada,  my  father's  mother,  was  stricken 
down  with  a  sickness  which  none  of  the  leeches  could 
ease,  and  when  Abbot  Fulrad,  compelled  by  matters  of 
state,  decided  that  he  must  come  north,  under  guard  of 
the  Burgundian  levy,  the  queen-mother  gave  command 
that  I  should  go  with  him,  to  bear  her  message  to  my 
father.  The  good  abbot  has  lost  none  of  his  liking  for 
you,  dear  hero.  He  was  only  too  well  pleased  to  bring 
me  in  his  following." 

"He  has  brought  me  joy!  —  But  the  queen-mother? 
God  grant  that  the  old  dame  may  yet  find  health ! " 

"  Kosru  the  leech  will  return  to  Mayence  with  Abbot 
Fulrad.  His  magic  drugs  heal  where  others  fail.  Of  all 
whom  he  has  attended,  only  Hildegarde,  my  beloved 
mother  —  " 

A  sob  choked  Rothada's  utterance,  and  tears  sprang 
into  her  eyes. 

Olvir  caught  her  face  between  his  hands,  and,  stooping 
quickly,  kissed  away  the  tears. 

"  Do  not  grieve,  dear  heart,"  he  said.  "  She  rests  in 
the  joy  and  peace  of  God's  presence,  where  we  shall  meet 
again  with  her  when  we,  too,  go  hence.  Tell  me  now  of 
Dame  Bertrada.  By  what  lucky  chance  could  you  be 
spared  from  her  bedside  ?  " 

390 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  Another  cares  for  her,  Olvir,  with  greater  skill  than 
I  can  give  —  Fastrada  —  " 

"Fastrada!" 

"  Be  just,  dearest.  The  maiden  has  surely  changed. 
Before  Hildegarde  —  passed  on  —  she  was  softened,  and 
now  she  gives  all  her  time  to  good  deeds.  Even  Dame 
Bertrada  has  no  word  against  her.  If  only  I  might  so  rid 
myself  of  vanity  and  selfishness ! " 

"  That  were  impossible,  sweetheart,  —  you  have  noth- 
ing of  either." 

"  Olvir !  But  tell  me  of  my  warriors.  Oh,  this  ter- 
rible battle!  I  weep  at  the  thought  of  the  slain." 

"  Never  weep  for  a  viking  who  falls  in  battle,  little 
vala.  He  goes  hence  rejoicing." 

"  That  is  no  Christian  joy." 

"  Christian,  but  far  from  Christ-like.  I  have  now  seen 
your  father's  Christian  warriors  in  battle.  They  rejoiced 
in  the  bloody  play  even  as  did  my  grim  heathen  and  — 
myself." 

"  Dear  hero,  I  know  that  you  fought  only  that  you 
might  aid  in  the  coming  of  Christ's  kingdom." 

"  No,  Rothada  —  God  forgive  me !  I  came  to  the 
battlefield  with  nothing  in  my  heart  but  good-will  toward 
the  forest-dwellers,  and  then  I  thrust  my  sword  among 
them  with  wolfish  delight." 

"  Yet  you  gave  assent,  Olvir,  when  my  father  said 
that  there  was  no  other  way  to  bring  about  the  highest 
good  to  the  stubborn  heathen." 

"For  the  better  way  was  closed  long  since!  Ah, 
well;  let  us  put  the  unwelcome  thought  behind  us." 

"  I,  too,  might  give  way  to  grief,  dearest.  My 
brother  —  " 

"The  luckless  bairn!    How  is  he  now?" 

"He  lies  on  the  couch  across;    but  do  not  go  near. 


B 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  leech  has  given  him  a  sleeping  draught,  and  he  must 
not  be  wakened  before  dawn.  He  is  still  dazed  from  the 
blow  on  his  head,  and  though  Kosru  gives  promise  that 
in  time  he  will  recover,  he  must  now  have  the  utmost  of 
care.  That  is  why  I  must  also  go  when  Father  Fulrad 
takes  him  and  Kosru  back  to  Mayence." 

"  So  soon  —  but  I  will  not  complain.  Though  but 
for  a  day  or  two,  Father  Fulrad  has  surely  brought  me 
joy!" 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  are  pleased,  dear  hero.  Now  free 
me,  that  I  may  make  ready  for  the  evening  meal." 

Olvir  ran  his  fingers  through  the  girl's  tangled  tresses, 
and  laughed  with  a  sudden  outburst  of  boyish  delight. 

"  Be  seated,  king's  daughter,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Yonder 
is  a  stool.  Seat  yourself,  and  I  shall  be  your  tiring- 
woman." 

"No,  no,  you  foolish  hero!"  protested  Rothada, 
blushing. 

But  Olvir  caught  up  from  a  bench  an  ivory  comb  and 
smilingly  led  the  girl  to  the  seat. 

When,  a  little  later,  Karl  entered  the  pavilion,  he  saw 
the  boldest  of  his  war-counts  on  his  knees  before  the 
daughter  of  Himiltrude,  carefully  plaiting  the  long  tresses 
of  chestnut  hair  which  fell  down  her  bosom. 

Rothada  drooped  her  head  before  the  astonished  look 
of  her  father,  overcome  with  shame ;  but  Olvir  continued 
his  braiding  with  quiet  unconcern.  The  king  stood  where 
he  had  first  paused,  silently  watching  the  lovers.  Soon 
surprise  gave  way  to  other  emotions,  and  he  smiled  half 
sadly.  Very  patiently  he  waited  until  the  last  gay  ribbon 
had  been  knotted,  and  then,  when  Olvir  would  have  risen 
to  salute  him,  he  held  up  a  restraining  hand,  and  went 
and  fetched  a  stool  to  seat  himself  beside  the  blushing  girl. 

"  You  do  well  to  be  happy  while  you  may,  chil- 
392 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

dren,"  he  said  gently.  "The  world  is  harsh  and  full  of 
trials." 

"  But  love  is  heaven  upon  earth,"  replied  Olvir. 

"True  love;  though  earth  cannot  hold  it  long.  But 
I  did  not  come  to  mar  your  happiness.  Only,  I  would  sit 
with  you  while  they  prepare  the  meal.  At  dawn  I  ride  over 
the  fells." 

"  At  dawn ! "  exclaimed  Rothada,  and  she  lifted  her 
head  quickly  to  look  at  Olvir. 

Karl  drew  her  to  him,  and  patted  her  glossy  tresses. 

"  Look  rather  at  me,  child,"  he  said.  "  I  go  at  dawn 
to  bear  the  Magian  leech  to  the  bedside  of  my  mother; 
he  stays  here.  I  see  plainly,  Olvir,  that  you  have  had 
your  fill  of  bloodshed,  and  so  I  give  you  the  command 
which  I  had  set  aside  for  another.  We  have  taken  great 
booty  and  a  multitude  of  thralls,  and  in  turn  have  suffered 
many  wounded  among  our  bold  warriors.  Yours  shall  be 
the  charge  to  guard  all  to  the  Rhine." 

"  My  lord  king !  "  cried  Olvir,  and  he  sprang  up  to  put 
his  gratitude  into  words.  But  Karl  motioned  him  to  fetch 
a  stool  instead. 

"  Be  seated,  kinsman,"  he  said  gravely.  "  You  owe 
me  no  thanks.  It  is  little  enough  for  what  you  have  done. 
In  a  few  weeks  I  may  call  you  into  the  field  again  —  and 
here  I  come  thrusting  myself  in,  to  take  from  you  a  por- 
tion of  your  brief  season  of  happiness." 

"You  do  not  take,  sire,  you  add,"  replied  Olvir,  his 
face  glowing.  To  be  named  as  kinsman  by  Karl,  son  of 
Pepin,  —  Karl,  the  world-hero,  —  meant  more  to  him  than 
words  could  express. 

Karl  smiled,  and  turned  from  the  happy  lover  to  his 
betrothed. 

"What  is  your  word,  child?"  he  demanded,  half 
playfully. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Rothada  raised  his  great  hand  to  her  lips  and  kissed 
it,  as  she  murmured  her  answer :  "  Our  Lord  Christ  is 
very  good  to  me  to  give  me  such  a  father  and  —  and  —  " 

"Such  a  wooer!" 

"  Such  a  wooer ! " 

"  God  grant  you  fulness  of  joy,  dear  children, — wedded 
bliss  for  a  lifetime  such  as  was  mine  for  the  few  brief 
years." 

The  broad  chest  of  the  speaker  rose  and  fell  with  a 
heavy  sigh,  and  he  bent  forward  upon  his  sword-hilt,  to 
stare  out  into  the  gathering  twilight. 


>  ^-^  - 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

For  wrong  and  hatred 
Shall  rest  them  never, 
Nay,  nor  sore  sorrow. 

LAY  OP  SIGRDRIPA. 

HE  king  spoke  very  truly  when 
he  predicted  that  Olvir's  journey 
Rhineward  would  be  slow.  But 
at  Cologne,  the  monks  of  Saint 
Martin  of  the  Isle  took  charge 
of  the  wounded  Franks,  and 
Count  Amalwin  came  to  receive 
the  king's  share  of  the  war-loot. 
He  brought  word  of  the  queen- 
mother's  death  and  her  inter- 
ment beside  King  Pepin  in  the  Basilica  of  Saint  Denis. 
After  the  burial,  Karl  moved  the  court  to  Worms,  and 
returned  into  Saxon  Land  by  way  of  Fulda.  It  was  his 
command  that  Olvir  should  at  once  join  the  court,  with 
Rothada  and  her  brother. 

So  the  longships  were  hauled  from  their  sheds,  and 
raced  away  up  Rhine  Stream,  through  the  fair  Rhinegau 
and  past  Mayence,  on  along  the  winding  streams  to 
Worms. 

Old  Fulrad  greeted  the  king's  Dane  hawk  with  the 
embrace  of  a  father,  and  Fastrada  welcomed  the  lovers 
with  such  sweet  humility  that  their  hearts  went  out  to  her. 
Olvir  himself  could  not  withhold  his  friendship  when  he 
came  upon  the  maiden  in  the  midst  of  the  royal  children, 

395 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


and  saw  how  even  the  boy  Karl  turned  to  her  as  to  a 
mother.  Only  the  most  malicious  of  the  court  gossips 
failed  to  praise  the  girl  for  her  devoted  care  of  Queen 
Bertrada  and  the  solicitude  she  had  shown  for  the  orphaned 
children  of  Hildegarde. 

So  it  happened  that  when,  in  the  autumn,  the  king 
returned  from  his  planting  of  fortresses  and  missions 
in  Saxon  Land,  he  found  waiting  him  a  merry  family 
group,  of  whom  Fastrada  was  the  life  and  centre.  To 
this  little  group  Karl  at  once  joined  himself,  and,  in  the 
pleasant  days  which  followed,  he  frequently  put  aside 
the  affairs  of  state  for  a  sail  on  the  Rhine  in  Olvir's 
Raven. 

Blind  to  all  else  in  the  happiness  of  his  own  wooing, 
Olvir  knew  nothing  of  the  report  that  was  fast  growing 
from  court  gossip  to  widespread  rumor,  as  to  the  king's 
intentions  toward  the  daughter  of  Rudulf.  The  awaken- 
ing came  to  him  and  to  Rothada  without  warning. 

Gerold  and  Liutrad,  who  had  had  in  charge  the  build- 
ing of  the  burg  and  mission-church  on  the  Haze  for  the 
newly  founded  Bishopric  of  Osnabruk,  returned  to  report 
their  work  complete.  Neither  had  cause  to  complain  of 
the  king's  praise  for  their  good  service ;  yet  the  very  next 
day  Olvir  met  them  wandering  moodily  along  the  Rhine 
bank,  and  Gerold's  face  was  clouded  with  grief. 

"What  is  this,  lad?"  asked  Olvir,  with  ready  sym- 
pathy. "  You  grieve  when  all  others  are  merry." 

"  All  are  merry,  Olvir,  even  our  lord  king,  and  yet  — 
and  yet  not  half  a  year  has  passed  —  " 

Sobs  choked  the  young  Swabian's  utterance.  He  flung 
himself  face  down  on  the  turf,  and  lay  quivering. 

Olvir  flashed  a  look  of  inquiry  at  Liutrad,  who 
shrugged  his  broad  shoulders  and  muttered  tersely:  "  The 
king  and  the  witch's  daughter,  earl." 

396 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  It  would  be  more  fitting  to  say  '  Count  Rudulf  s 
daughter.'  But  what  of  her  and  our  lord  king?  " 

"  Do  you  not  know,  ring-breaker?  " 

"  Why  my  question?  " 

"Worad  says  that  it  has  been  rumored  for  a  fort- 
night, and  now  it  is  given  out  by  authority,  within  a  week 
our  lord  king  weds  the  daughter  of  Rudulf." 

"Weds  — Fastrada!" 

"  And  why  not,  ring-breaker?  Once  I  scoffed  at  the 
maiden's  magic  ring.  I  was  dog-wise.  I  know  she  hoped 
it  would  win  back  your  love  to  her.  In  that  it  failed.  Yet 
see  now  —  it  has  gained  her  a  queen's  crown." 

Olvir  shook  his  head  incredulously. 

"  I  see  you  still  put  faith  in  foolish  charms  and  spells," 
he  said.  "It  was  no  bright  stone  that  drew  the  king's 
heart.  Though  I  wish  that  his  Majesty  had  been  less 
hasty,  I  cannot  grudge  the  maiden  her  success.  She  has 
won  it  fairly,  —  not  by  spell  or  magic  stone,  nor  altogether 
by  her  beauty;  but  most  of  all  by  the  kindness  of  her  deeds 
and  the  modesty  of  her  bearing.  Do  not  grieve,  Gerold. 
Our  lord  king  has  not  forgotten  your  gracious  sister.  He 
is  giving  to  her  children  another  mother." 

"A  stepmother  —  the  witch's  daughter!"  muttered 
Liutrad. 

"  Hildegarde !    Hildegarde !  "  sobbed  Gerold. 

"  Ah,  lads !  "  exclaimed  Olvir,  "  you  are  unjust  to  the 
maiden.  I  myself  have  seen  how  her  heart  has  changed." 

"  Changed?  "  retorted  Liutrad.  "  Have  you  forgotten 
the  past?  —  what  of  your  werwolf?  Do  not  frown,  earl. 
I  lived  the  four  years  in  the  king's  hall  with  the  witch's 
daughter,  while  you  ruled  Vascon  Land.  I  saw  much  of 
what  you  seem  to  have  forgotten." 

"  Enough.  I  believe  that  her  heart  has  altered.  At 
the  least,  she  is  now  the  betrothed  of  our  lord  king." 

397 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  The  king  has  spoken.  It  is  for  us  to  honor  his 
bride,"  said  Gerold,  and  he  rose  up,  dry-eyed,  to  return 
into  the  burg. 

Often  as  the  king  was  accustomed  to  visit  that  city, 
Worms  could  never  remember  so  gay  a  festival  as  the 
wedding  of  the  new  queen.  The  narrow  streets  had  been 
cleaned  of  excessive  filth ;  bright  cloths  and  banners  hung 
from  all  the  larger  buildings,  and  the  townfolk,  heedless 
of  the  autumn  breeze,  gaped  from  window  and  doorway 
at  the  gaily  attired  lords  who  filled  the  streets  with 
their  armed  henchmen.  All  Speyer  and  Mayence  and 
Frankfurt  and  the  country-side  for  miles  around  had  come 
to  see  the  royal  wedding.  The  tradefolk  had  cause  to 
rejoice  in  a  surfeit  of  custom;  and  many  a  year  passed 
before  the  beggars  and  slaves  forgot  the  royal  bounty 
doled  out  to  them  at  the  gate  of  every  church  and  cloister 
in  the  burg. 

Yet  the  giving  was  not  all  on  the  part  of  royalty. 
Lords  and  tradefolk  vied  with  each  other  in  their  gifts  to 
the  king's  bride,  until  Fastrada's  bower  overflowed  with 
the  finest  of  silks  and  woollens,  coffers  of  jewels,  and  the 
richest  garments  of  women's  wear. 

But  in  the  midst  of  her  abundance,  the  daughter  of 
Rudulf  sat  cold  and  still,  taking  no  part  in  the  gay  chatter 
and  delighted  outcry  of  the  bower-maidens.  There  was 
a  change,  however,  when,  on  the  morning  of  the  wedding, 
Rothada  came  running  to  her  with  the  gift  sent  by  Olvir, 
—  a  necklace  of  sapphires,  the  largest  in  the  hoard  of 
Sheik  Al  Arabi.  At  sight  of  the  gift,  Fastrada's  eyes  shone 
with  the  hue  of  the  all  but  priceless  gems,  and  she  hastened 
to  fasten  the  necklace  about  her  rounded  throat  in  place 
of  the  river  pearls  sent  by  her  father. 

The  press  of  counts  and  officials  in  the  burg  was  so 
398 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


great  that  when  they  thronged  with  their  retainers  into 
the  domchurch,  on  the  heels  of  the  palace  lords  and 
the  embassies  from  outland  courts,  they  filled  the  great 
edifice  to  the  very  doors.  As  to  the  common  folk,  they 
had  to  stop  outside  in  the  church  court  and  in  the  street. 
While  they  waited  in  the  frosty  air,  those  more  favored 
by  birth  or  fortune  stood  massed  in  dense  ranks  in  the 
nave  and  feasted  their  eyes  on  the  royal  ceremony.  Priests 
and  officials  were  clad  in  their  most  ornate  raiment,  and 
the  king  himself  had  laid  aside  his  plain  dress  for  a  cos- 
tume unrivalled  in  magnificence  by  the  most  extravagant 
among  his  lords. 

Very  different  was  the  appearance  of  the  bride  and 
her  maidens.  All  were  dressed  in  white  silk,  and,  with 
their  white  wimples,  looked  far  more  like  novices  than 
bridesmaids.  Even  Rothada,  who  walked  beside  the  bride, 
wore  no  gold  or  gems.  As  the  girlish  procession  passed 
softly  around  into  the  chancel,  the  only  jewel  to  be  seen 
among  them  was  the  great  opal  on  the  hand  which  the 
bride  held  clasped  to  her  bosom. 

But  when  Fastrada  advanced  past  her  maidens  to 
kneel  before  the  high  altar,  she  raised  her  head,  with  a 
sudden  upwelling  of  exultant  pride,  and  Olvir,  gazing 
from  his  post  behind  the  king,  saw  with  wonder  that  his 
sapphire  necklace  lay  about  her  throat.  Then,  as  he 
stood  staring,  he  met  her  glance,  which  had  passed  by 
the  splendid  figure  of  the  king  to  fix  upon  himself.  The 
look  flashed  upon  him  like  a  stab  out  of  the  darkness.  In 
a  moment  it  had  come  and  gone,  leaving  him  astounded 
and  full  of  dread.  As  the  lightning  reveals  the  storm- 
swept  landscape,  so  that  instant's  glance  had  opened  to 
him  a  glimpse  of  the  girl's  inmost  soul,  torn  between 
triumph  and  despairing  hate  and  the  old  love  for  her 
lost  hero. 

399 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Shocked  and  humiliated,  Olvir  stood  in  a  half-daze, 
heeding  neither  the  chanting  of  the  choir  nor  the  solemn 
words  of  Fulrad.  His  heart  was  numb  with  a  vague  fore- 
boding of  evil,  and  his  mind  whirled  with  a  chaos  of  wild 
fancies.  For  a  time  he  pictured  himself  as  one  entangled 
in  the  dreadful  deeds  and  bitter  fate  of  the  Nibelung  heroes. 

But  when  at  last  Abbot  Fulrad  had  pronounced  the 
benediction,  and  Karl,  placing  the  diadem  upon  the  brow 
of  his  queen,  rose  up  from  the  altar  steps  to  lead  her  away, 
Olvir  regained  his  calmness.  He  told  himself  that  the 
queen's  strange  glance  was  only  an  illusion,  —  that  the 
false  light  of  the  waxen  tapers  had  deceived  his  eyes,  and 
he  was  a  vain  fool  to  have  imagined  that  any  thought  of 
himself  could  have  come  to  the  king's  bride  at  the  very 
steps  of  the  altar. 

In  his  revulsion  of  feeling,  he  joined  heartily  in  the 
outcry  of  the  Franks,  and,  side  by  side  with  Rothada, 
followed  the  royal  couple  from  the  church.  But  during 
the  wedding  feast,  while  all  others  stared  constantly  at 
the  glittering  figure  of  the  king  and  the  calm  white  face 
of  his  bride,  Olvir  was  fully  satisfied  with  the  sight  of  his 
little  princess.  Though  he  had  overcome  the  dread  which 
had  chilled  his  heart,  he  had  no  wish  to  meet  such  another 
look  from  the  new  queen. 

The  next  day,  however,  Olvir  heard  with  pleasure  the 
summons  to  appear  before  the  king  and  the  queen  in  the 
bower.  Even  when,  having  saluted  the  king,  he  bent  to 
kiss  the  slender  hand  on  which  glowed  the  many-hued 
opal,  no  thought  of  doubt  or  distrust  entered  his  mind. 

"  All  joy  to  my  lord  king  and  his  bride ! "  he  cried. 

"  All  joy  is  ours,  Olvir,"  replied  Karl,  and  he  beamed 
down  upon  his  queen  with  the  fond  look  of  the  newly 
wedded  lover.  Fastrada  sat  motionless,  her  eyes  downcast 
and  her  face  wrapped  in  an  inscrutable  calm.  As  Olvir 

400 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


released  her  hand  and  drew  aside  to  where  Rothada  waited 
him  on  their  accustomed  seat,  the  queen-bride  bent  over 
her  opal,  and  murmured  softly :  "  Tell  him  of  his  fortune, 
dear  lord.  When  one's  heart  is  full  of  joy  or  sorrow,  it 
is  good  to  see  those  around  grieve  or  rejoice  with  us." 

"  Such  is  the  nature  of  man,  sweetheart.  Listen,  Olvir. 
As  part  of  the  morning-gift  of  my  bride,  I  have  granted 
her  kindly  wish  to  do  you  honor,  and  so  name  you  Count 
of  the  Frisian  Mark.  Count  Teutoric  lies  wounded  at 
Fitzlar,  and  Gerold  is  too  young  for  so  grave  a  charge. 
But  this  dear  one  at  my  side  has  called  to  mind  your  good 
service  in  Vascon  Land,  and  though  my  selfishness  urges 
the  pleasure  of  your  company,  I  wish  to  render  you  the 
honor  which  is  your  due.  My  ungenerous  love  would  have 
had  me  regard  my  own  pleasure  before  your  advancement, 
—  the  more  so  as  you  should  hasten  at  once  to  your  mark. 
I  will  see  you  again  before  you  sail.  Now  I  go  to  advise 
with  Alcuin." 

"  My  lord  king !  "  cried  Olvir,  springing  up.  But  Karl, 
mistaking  his  purpose,  stepped  down  from  the  dais  and 
passed  by,  with  a  good-natured  shake  of  the  head. 

"  Render  your  thanks  to  your  queen,  to  whom  they  are 
due,"  he  called  back,  as  he  left  the  bower. 

Olvir  took  a  step  or  two  after  the  king,  only  to  turn 
again  to  Fastrada. 

"  Dear  dame,"  he  said,  "  I  am  not  one  to  value  lightly 
the  honor  put  upon  me ;  yet  I  wish  that  Gerold  or  Amalwin 
had  been  chosen  instead.  Let  another  be  given  the  count- 
ship.  I  am  content  here  beside  my  betrothed." 

"  Truly,  it  is  a  long  way  to  Frisia,"  sighed  Rothada, 
and  she  drew  close  to  the  side  of  her  hero. 

"  A  long  way !  "  repeated  Olvir,  clasping  her  hand. 

For  a  while  Fastrada  sat  calm  and  silent  as  before, 
fingering  the  opal  on  her  hand.  Then,  without  raising  her 

26  401 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

eyes  or  altering  her  look,  she  said  quietly :  "  Take  the  word 
of  a  well-wisher,  Olvir.  It  is  not  pleasing  to  kings  to  have 
their  favors  cast  back  upon  them.  Trust  me.  My  dear  lord 
has  chosen  you  to  honor  and  power  above  all  others  of  his 
counts  except  Barnard,  his  uncle.  Render  him  the  service 
which  lies  in  you  to  render,  and  you  may  look  for  more 
welcome  favors  to  follow." 

"  I  wish  one  only.  Tell  me,  little  vala,  would  you  say 
no  if  the  king,  your  father,  gave  you  leave  to  sail  down 
Rhine  Stream  with  your  sea- wolves?  " 

"  If  my  father  bade  me  go,  dear  hero  —  " 

"  Only  one  way  could  you  go,  child,  —  as  bride  of  their 
count,"  broke  in  Fastrada,  sharply. 

"  And  so  it  shall  be,"  rejoined  Olvir. 

Fastrada  did  not  raise  her  eyes,  but  her  jewelled  bus- 
kin tapped  softly  on  the  dais. 

"  Foolish  children !  "  she  murmured.  "  You  will  spoil 
all  when  the  future  is  brightest  with  promise.  Would  it 
not  seem  ungracious,  Olvir,  to  so  soon  beg  another  favor? 
You  have  yet  to  fulfil  the  terms  of  your  betrothal." 

"  But  for  this  countship,  I  would  go  to  him  and  ask 
that  those  terms  be  set  aside.  Yet  you  say  true ;  I  cannot 
tax  his  friendship.  My  mouth  is  closed." 

"  Trust  me,  Olvir.  You  will  have  a  friend  close  to  the 
king's  ear.  But  bear  in  mind  my  dear  lord's  unwillingness 
to  part  with  his  little  maid.  It  may  be  I  can  soon  overcome 
that.  If  not,  what  is  another  year  of  waiting  to  true  lovers? 
Have  I  not  waited  all  these  years  for  my  king,  —  my  king, 
'  grey  of  eye '  ?  Rothada  is  still  very  young.  I  have  seen 
two  and  twenty  summers;  she  cannot  count  a  score." 

"  She  is  none  too  young  to  wed,  even  by  Northern 
custom,"  answered  Olvir. 

"  True,  and  we  will  all  pray  that  your  betrothal  may 
have  a  quick  ending.  Now  send  in  the  maidens  from  the 
402 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"1, 


antechamber,  and  say  your  farewells  when  there  is  none 
left  to  chatter  over  your  parting.  You  shall  have  until 
the  turn  of  the  glass  for  your  parting.  No,  Olvir;  give 
me  no  thanks.  Go  quickly;  the  sweet  moments  are 
winged.  But  bear  in  mind,  if  it  come  to  the  worst,  what 
is  a  year  of  waiting  to  true  lovers?  " 

"  A  year !  "  muttered  Olvir,  as  he  drew  Rothada's 
hand  through  his  arm  and  led  her  from  the  bower,  "  a 
year!  Doubtless,  the  queen's  words  are  well  meant,  but 
already,  dear  heart,  our  betrothal  year  is  far  gone;  and 
did  I  not  love  you  all  those  long  years  before?  " 

Rothada  made  no  reply  until  the  curious  maidens  had 
hurried  into  the  bower  and  she  stood  alone  with  her  lover 
in  the  anteroom.  Then  she  placed  her  arms  on  his 
shoulders,  and  gazed  up,  clear-eyed,  into  his  troubled  face. 

"  Dear  hero,"  she  said,  "  Fastrada  has  spoken  wisely. 
We  must  have  patience.  In  His  own  good  time,  God  will 
grant  us  the  fulness  of  joy." 

"Ah,  darling,  you  forget  the  longing  —  the  hunger 
of  love !  How  shall  I  sit  at  peace  among  the  dreary  fens, 
while  my  heart  is  with  you  in  the  Rhinegau?  Day  and 
night  I  shall  hunger  for  the  sight  of  your  sweet  face. 
By  false  Loki,  would  that  our  lord  king  might  do  me  a 
wrong !  I  should  seize  you,  though  it  were  from  the  very 
cloister,  and  bear  you  away  to  Trondheim  Fiord ! " 

"  Olvir !  It  grieves  me  you  should  hold  such 
thoughts ! "  cried  Rothada,  and  she  burst  into  tears. 
Olvir  caught  her  to  him  in  an  agony  of  contrition. 

"  Would  to  Heaven  I  'd  never  been  a  sea-king !  "  he 
muttered.  "  Dearest  heart  —  little  princess,  forgive  me  — 
do  not  weep !  " 

"  See,  then ;  I  have  ceased  already,"  whispered  Ro- 
thada, and  she  looked  up  through  her  tears,  with  a  brave 
smile.  "  Yet  I  am  very  sad,  my  hero.  Oh,  if  only  you 

403 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

could  go  to  my  father  and  tell  him  that  your  heart  was  free 
to  fulfil  those  conditions!  Then  I  would  —  I  would  my- 
self beg  of  him  that  I  might  fare  down  Rhine  Stream  — 
with  you." 

"  Little  vala !  How  the  longships  would  fly,  winged 
by  the  bowing  oars  of  your  merry  sea-wolves ! "  —  and 
Olvir  strained  the  girl  to  him.  But  then  he  freed  her,  and 
his  face  grew  stern. 

"  Christ  aid  us !  "  he  muttered.  "  My  spirit  is  torn 
between  love  and  truth.  Odin  bear  witness  how  I  love 
you,  dear;  yet  even  for  your  sake  I  cannot  bend  to  the 
yoke  of  priestcraft.  It  would  be  a  lie  —  a  lie !  " 

"  The  more  do  I  love  you,  my  hero,  for  your  true 
heart !  If  you  are  mistaken,  our  Lord  Christ  will  give  you 
light.  Trust  to  His  guidance,  and  however  you  may  be 
led,  I  have  faith  that  all  will  come  well  in  the  end." 

"  In  the  end  —  ay,  in  the  end ;  but  I  'm  weary  of 
waiting.  Five  long  winters  have  dragged  by  since  we  first 
plighted  troth,  there  in  the  Southland." 

"  I  was  only  a  child ;  yet  see,  Olvir,  my  collar  —  the 
tress  which  saved  you  at  Roncesvalles  —  still  lies  clasped 
about  your  throat.  It  is  not  a  year  since  my  father  be- 
trothed us.  We  must  trust  in  Christ  and  in  the  good-will 
of  —  of  the  queen." 

"  The  witch's  daughter ! "  replied  Olvir,  and  his  face 
clouded  yet  more.  "  Why  did  she  not  look  up  as  she 
spoke?  My  mind  is  not  at  ease.  Her  words  were  so 
kindly;  but  still,  it  seemed  to  me  her  meaning  — " 

"  Such  doubts  are  unworthy  of  you,  Olvir.  Could  a 
sister  —  a  mother  —  show  greater  tenderness  than  she  has 
shown  since  Hildegarde  left  us?" 

"  The  bitterness  of  parting  poisons  my  thought.  For- 
give me,  dear,  if  I  give  way  to  doubt.  Yet  there  is  one  in 
the  court  whom  I  can  trust  to  watch  over  you.  Trust 

404 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Liutrad  in  all  things.  He  would  strike  off  his  sword-hand 
to  give  you  joy.  Wait;  a  word  more,  darling.  Here  is 
my  silver-hilted  knife,  the  work  of  my  own  hands." 

"What  —  I  bear  a  dagger?"  cried  Rothada,  and  she 
shrank  from  the  gift. 

"  Call  it  a  bodkin ;  only,  take  and  keep  it  in  memory 
of  our  parting." 

"As  you  wish,  then,  dear;  yet  it  is  a  large  bodkin 
to  carry  in  my  bosom,  and  if  I  sling  it  at  my  girdle,  the 
maidens  will  mock  me  for  a  warrior." 

"A  terrible  hero!  Tie  the  sheath  with  ribbons,  and 
let  the  silly  maidens  laugh." 

"  No ;  I  will  hang  it  about  my  neck.  It  shall  lie  upon 
my  heart,  in  pledge  of  your  love  and  protection.  I  will 
cherish  it,  dear;  for  it  comes  from  my  hero." 

Olvir  smiled,  half  sadly,  and  turned  away,  while  the 
girl  looped  a  ribbon  about  her  neck  to  suspend  the  dagger 
in  her  bosom.  The  movement  brought  his  gaze  about  to 
the  doorway  of  the  bower,  in  which  stood  the  withered 
form  of  old  Kosru  the  leech,  draped  about  with  a  gorgeous 
robe  of  yellow  silk.  The  moment  Olvir's  eyes  fell  upon 
him,  the  Magian  bent  to  the  rushes,  as  in  former  years  he 
had  salaamed  before  the  stern  Vali  Kasim.  The  servile 
obeisance  irritated  the  Northman  quite  as  much  as  the 
interruption. 

"  Withdraw,  leech! "  he  said  almost  harshly. 

"  I  go,  lord  count.  But  —  may  my  lord  forgive  me  the 
bearing!  —  the  gracious  queen  bids  me  say  that  the  sand 
is  nearly  run." 

"  Could  she  not  give  the  glass  another  turning?  " 

"  Att  lord ;  but  our  mighty  protector  Karolah  has  gone 
to  the  water-side  to  see  you  take  ship,"  replied  the  leech, 
and,  with  a  dry  cackling  of  toothless  laughter,  he  shuffled 
about  into  the  bower.  As  he  turned,  he  thrust  his  hand 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

beneath  his  robe,  and  a  soft,  metallic  clink  chimed  with  his 
mirthless  chuckle. 

"At  —  ail"  he  muttered;  "youth  and  love  are  soon 
sped;  but  the  shining  gold  is  ever  a  joy  and  a  comfort." 

Then  his  ill-omened  figure  disappeared  from  view,  and 
Olvir  clasped  his  little  princess  to  him  for  the  last  bitter- 
sweet moments  of  parting. 


406 


CHAPTER  XIX 


Why  are  ye  sitting  there? 
Why  sleep  ye  life  away? 
Why  does  it  grieve  you  not? 

WHETTING  OF  GUDRUN. 

ITTERLY  was  Olvir  to  regret 
that  he  had  bent  to  the  subtle 
taunt  of  the  witch's  daughter. 
Had  he  taken  Rothada  before 
her  father  in  the  first  flush  of  his 
wedding  joy,  Karl  could  have 
refused  them  nothing.  But  he 
had  let  himself  be  lured  away  to 
the  fen-lands,  far  from  king  and 
court ;  while  the  new  queen  was 
ever  at  the  side  of  the  world-ruler,  free  at  all  times  to  whis- 
per her  guileful  words  into  his  willing  ear.  Olvir  had  no 
need  of  Liutrad's  gloomy  letters  to  tell  him  of  the  evil  spell 
which  the  witch's  daughter  had  laid  on  the  great  Frank. 
Before  the  year  was  out,  it  was  commonly  known,  even  in 
Frisia,  how  the  king's  bride,  who  never  smiled,  had  driven 
Count  Hardrat  and  others  of  her  countrymen  from  the 
court  with  scoffs  and  biting  jests,  had  poisoned  the  king's 
mind  with  evil  thoughts  of  his  most  devoted  liegemen,  and 
had  hardened  his  heart  to  bloodshed  and  cruelty. 

After  many  dreary  months  of  waiting,  it  was  with  a 
feeling  almost  of  joy  that  Olvir  received  the  curt  command 
which  bade  him  join  young  Karl  and  Gerold  at  the  Sigi- 
burg.  The  king  had  gone  north  to  hunt  out  the  wary 

407 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Engern  and  Eastphalians,  and  had  left  the  Prankish  horse- 
men under  the  nominal  command  of  his  sturdy  son,  to  meet 
the  mounted  forces  of  the  Westphalians. 

Even  war  was  preferable  to  the  torment  of  inaction, 
and  in  the  great  battle  of  horsemen  which  was  fought  on 
the  Lippe,  Olvir  proved  that  if  he  had  lost  his  old-time  zest 
for  fighting,  he  had  by  no  means  lost  his  daring  and  quick- 
ness. The  Saxons  were  defeated  with  great  slaughter, 
though  not  until  Olvir  had  twice  saved  the  life  of  young 
Karl. 

For  such  a  service,  Olvir  might  well  have  looked  for 
some  special  mark  of  the  king's  favor.  But  the  queen  had 
gone  north  with  the  court,  to  join  Karl  on  the  Weser,  and 
not  even  a  word  of  praise  came  from  the  gay  camp  near 
Sunthal,  where  Karl  lingered  until  after  Yuletide. 

Then  came  the  command  signed  by  Angilram,  the  new 
Keeper  of  the  Seal,  saying  that  young  Karl  should  join 
his  father  at  the  Eresburg,  leaving  the  horsemen  under 
Gerold's  charge;  while  Count  Olvir  should  march  into 
Thuringia,  to  give  aid  to  Rudulf,  Count  of  the  Sorb  Mark. 

The  tidings  of  Abbot  Fulrad's  death  were  very  griev- 
ous to  Olvir;  for  the  kindly  old  councillor  had  been  his 
strongest  friend  at  court.  And  to  this  cup  of  sorrow  was 
added  the  gall  of  Teutoric's  reinstatement  as  Count  of  the 
Frisian  Mark.  This,  however,  Karl  himself  sought  to  ex- 
cuse by  a  scroll  in  his  own  rude,  bold  handwriting.  Teu- 
toric  had  at  last  recovered  from  his  long  illness,  and  had 
asked  for  his  old  countship.  In  giving  it  to  him  again, 
he,  Karl,  had  meant  nothing  against  his  Dane  hawk,  but 
thought  to  honor  him  by  sending  him  into  the  Sorb  Mark, 
where  there  was  need  of  his  sword.  Sometime  in  the 
spring,  if  the  Sorbs  had  become  quiet,  he  should  call  his 
bright  falcon  to  him. 

Filled  with  renewed  hope  by  this  promise,  Olvir  bade 
408 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Gerold  farewell,  and  marched  swiftly  across  Westphalia 
with  his  vikings.  At  the  Eresburg,  he  left  young  Karl  to 
await  his  father,  who  had  stopped  at  Paderborn;  but  he 
himself  marched  on  with  his  vikings,  over  the  Fulda  and 
Werra,  into  the  great  forest  of  the  Thuringians. 

Not  until  they  reached  the  banks  of  the  Saale  did  the 
vikings  come  upon  the  Grey  Wolf's  lair,  —  a  great  fenced 
camp  on  the  farthermost  border  of  the  Sorb  Mark.  But 
if  their  journey  was  long,  their  welcome  was  hearty 
enough  to  make  amends.  Morose  and  savage  as  was  his 
nature,  old  Rudulf  greeted  Olvir  with  the  open  friendliness 
of  one  fearless  man  for  another.  He  had  long  since  put 
away  the  grudge  which  he  had  once  cherished  against  the 
Northman,  and  now  he  could  even  speak  of  the  spurning  of 
his  daughter  without  bitterness.  Half  jestingly,  he  called 
to  mind  that  all  but  forgotten  event,  and  pointed  out  how 
that  which  had  seemed  so  ill  a  happening  had,  in  the  end, 
turned  out  well  omened  for  all.  Was  not  his  daughter  the 
king's  wedded  wife,  and  Olvir  plighted  to  the  king's 
daughter? 

But  Rudulf  had  other  cause  than  his  admiration  for 
the  Northman  to  give  warmth  to  his  greetings.  When 
alone  with  Olvir,  he  complained  that,  for  the  first  time  in  a 
score  of  years,  the  young  men  of  his  folk  showed  a  lack  of 
willingness  to  respond  to  the  king's  bode.  This  was  all 
the  more  marked,  he  said,  because  of  the  spirit  of  unrest 
which  moved  through  the  forests.  Men  sat  uneasily  at  the 
hearthside,  their  thoughts  clouded  with  forebodings  of  evil. 
It  was  not  that  the  Sorbs  were  astir  and  threatened  a  harry- 
ing of  the  mark.  That  should  have  brought  the  wild  forest 
warriors  with  a  rush  to  join  the  banner  of  their  old-time 
leader.  Yet  his  war-ring  was  all  but  empty.  Those  who 
should  have  crowded  the  hedges  loitered  about  their 
farmstedes. 

409 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

The  coming  of  Olvir  and  his  sea-wolves  was,  therefore, 
a  very  welcome  event  to  the  grim  old  Count  of  the  mark. 
Though  time  and  war  had  lessened  the  number  of  the  vik- 
ings to  a  scant  four  hundred,  they  were  picked  warriors, 
mailed  like  chiefs,  and  trained  as  no  band  had  been  trained 
since  the  days  of  the  Romans.  With  such  men  at  his  call, 
the  Grey  Wolf  lay  at  ease  in  his  lair,  confident  that 
should  the  Sorbs  dare  raid  his  mark,  they  would  ride  back 
across  the  Saale  far  faster  than  they  came.  It  would  seem 
that  the  crafty  heathen  were  themselves  aware  of  this ;  for 
the  arrival  of  the  vikings  was  followed  by  signs  that  the 
menacing  Slavs  had  thought  better  of  their  purpose.  All 
along  the  border  the  account  of  how  the  giant  Danes  of 
Karl  the  Frank  had  turned  the  Saxon  Wittikind's  victories 
into  bloody  disaster  was  now  a  well-known  tale. 

So  the  Slav  folk  kept  across  the  Saale,  biding  a  fairer 
season  for  their  raid;  while  the  warriors,  whose  presence 
had  put  the  curb  on  their  lust  for  blood  and  loot,  lay  about 
the  Thuringian  camp,  grumbling  at  the  lack  of  merry 
sword-play.  It  was  in  vain  that  on  the  accustomed  day  for 
the  spring  sacrifice  they  honored  Odin  with  many  choice 
victims.  Neither  Floki,  nor  such  others  of  their  number  as 
were  skilled  in  signs  and  omens,  could  foretell  anything 
from  the  casting  of  the  blood-chips.  At  the  least,  no  war 
was  to  be  read  in  the  boding,  and  the  Sorbs  did  not  give 
the  lie  to  the  omens. 

May  came  and  went,  and  then  June,  and  Olvir  was  be- 
ginning to  doubt  the  king's  faith,  when  word  was  brought 
to  the  forest  fastness,  —  another  scroll  in  Karl's  rough 
handwriting,  —  saying  that  he  had  gone  north  to  invade 
the  land  beyond  the  Elbe,  but  had  not  forgotten  his  Dane 
hawk.  With  this  assurance  of  the  king's  troth,  Olvir 
rested  fairly  content.  Yet  it  was  no  easy  task  to  wait 
through  the  long  summer-time. 
410 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Autumn  was  already  at  hand  when  the  vikings  began 
to  talk  of  a  weird  apparition,  in  appearance  like  a  dead 
woman  swathed  in  her  shroud,  which  wandered  through 
their  camp  in  the  darkness.  The  manner  in  which  the 
Thuringians  scoffed  at  the  "  grey  walker  "  of  their  heathen 
fellows  soon  convinced  Olvir  that  the  fancied  wraith  was 
none  other  than  old  Rudulf's  Wend  wife.  To  test  the  mat- 
ter, he  expressed  to  the  count  his  wonder  that  the  dame 
should  see  fit  to  act  so  mysteriously. 

The  next  night,  as  he  sat  by  the  Grey  Wolfs  hearth 
listening  to  a  grim  tale  of  life  in  the  mark,  the  Wend 
woman  glided  into  the  hut,  and  sat  down  opposite  the  two 
men.  Rudulf  nodded  carelessly  to  his  wife,  and  would  have 
gone  on  with  his  tale.  But  Olvir  turned  to  greet  her. 

"  Welcome,  dame,"  he  said.  "  I  did  not  think  to  see 
you  again  in  this  life,  when  at  our  last  meeting  you  fared 
out  into  the  storm  and  night." 

"  And  what  if  I  am  not  now  in  the  flesh-life,  son  of 
Thorbiorn?"  asked  the  witch,  in  a  hollow  voice. 

"  The  heartier  should  be  my  welcome,  dame/'  rejoined 
Olvir.  "  I  Ve  ever  longed  to  meet  a  farer  from  Hel's  Land. 
But  though  I  have  seen  many  go  that  journey,  I  have  never 
seen  one  come  again." 

"  Not  so  the  daughter  of  the  Snake,  bold  mocker.  In 
the  midnight,  when  the  wolves  feasted  upon  the  bodies  of 
the  slain,  I  have  walked  on  the  battlefield,  gathering  the 
death-dew  for  my  spells,  and  my  eyes  have  seen  the  blood- 
reddened  souls  rising  from  the  mangled  flesh." 

<f  Your  souls  were  going  hence,  daughter  of  the  Snake ; 
they  as  yet  knew  only  the  earth-life.  I  spoke  of  those  who 
have  crossed  over  the  glittering  way,  and  then  come  again 
to  Manheim.  Hel  holds  with  a  firm  grip  those  who  go  to 
her.  Not  many  fare  back  who  have  set  foot  beyond  the  wall 
of  Loki's  daughter." 

411 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  The  son  of  Thorbiorn  would  have  his  hostess  tell  of 
deeds  forbidden  under  the  laws  of  Karl.  Does  not  the 
Christian  king  doom  to  the  mire-death  those  who  practise 
spells?  Ail  not  all  have  forgotten  my  hut  in  the  Moselle 
Wood,  and  the  curse  which  I  put  upon  those  whom  I  left 
behind." 

"  By  the  fiend  Odin!  "  broke  in  Rudulf ;  "  that  was  an 
ill-doing,  wife.  Yet  if  the  good  queen  has  gone  hence, 
and  Pepin  Crookback  become  a  witling,  our  guest  will  tell 
you  that  young  Karl  bids  fair  to  fill  his  father's  sword- 
belt,  and  our  daughter,  the  queen,  goes  clad  in  silk  and 
gold." 

"  Your  daughter,  —  the  false  trull,  —  not  mine !"  hissed 
the  woman.  "  As  to  her  luck,  good  or  ill,  have  you  for- 
gotten my  boding  when  this  bright  gerfalcon  flew  out  of 
the  South  to  seek  our  leave  for  his  wooing?  *  A  king,  grey 
of  eye/  was  my  foretelling,  and  so  it  has  chanced.  But 
again  I  gave  my  boding,  as  I  fared  from  the  hut  into  the 
storm,  and  again  my  word  has  come  true.  The  queen  your 
daughter  sits  in  her  silken  bower,  and  her  heart  lies  as  a 
stone  in  her  breast.  With  a  touch  she  bends  the  iron  Karl 
to  her  bidding ;  yet  power  and  wealth  are  become  as  ashes 
in  her  mouth.  There  is  wormwood  in  her  drink,  and  gall 
in  her  dainty  fare.  Do  I  speak  truth,  gerfalcon?  " 

"  I  would  say  nothing  against  the  dame  of  my  lord," 
answered  Olvir. 

"  Yet  she  has  brought  you  little  else  than  sorrow  and 
evil." 

"  She  has  not  turned  the  king's  heart  against  me.  I 
hold  his  pledge.  Each  day  I  look  for  his  bidding  to  come 
to  him." 

"  You  liave  not  heard,  son  of  Thorbiorn !  Your  ears 
are  duller  than  I  thought.  Karl  went  north  from  Pader- 
born,  not  Rhineward.  He  is  now  upon  the  Elbe  bank." 

412 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  I  have  heard,  dame.  It  seems  that  my  wait  is  to  be 
a  little  longer." 

"  You  take  the  ill  tidings  calmly,  hero.  Will  you  laugh 
in  joy  when  I  tell  you  that  Karl  is  minded  to  break  his 
pledge  to  you?  " 

"  That  is  not  true,"  said  Olvir,  staring  intently  at  the 
grey-shrouded  figure  of  the  woman. 

"  The  hero  talks  foolishly.  She  who  was  my  daughter 
lies  in  the  king's  arms;  Count  Olvir  lies  on  the  Saale 
bank." 

"  It  is  easy  to  speak  bold  words  when  the  face  is  hid- 
den," rejoined  Olvir. 

At  the  taunt,  the  witch  flung  back  her  cloak,  exposing 
fully  to  the  red  firelight  the  ghastly  adder  mark  upon  her 
cheek  and  the  weasels  nestling  in  her  bosom.  Roused  by 
the  movement,  the  little  beasts  crawled  upon  her  shoulders, 
and  stared,  fiery-eyed,  at  the  stranger. 

"  Now  I  see  the  face  of  the  alruna,"  said  Olvir,  quietly. 
"  Let  her  speak." 

"  What  more  should  I  say,  Dane  hawk?  Go  through 
the  Frank's  realm ;  ask  of  the  king's  men  if  their  lord  keeps 
troth  with  them;  ask  of  the  harried  Saxons  whose  is  the 
bitter  tongue  that  is  ever  inflaming  the  king's  mind  to 
bloodshed." 

"  Enough  of  ill  talk,  wife,"  growled  Rudulf.  "  King 
Karl  will  do  right  by  our  guest-friend." 

"  Well  said,  old  Grey  Dog !  "  rejoined  the  woman,  scof- 
fingly.  "  Your  teeth  have  worn  blunt  on  the  bones  of  Karl's 
foemen,  and  now  you  'd  whine  and  lick  your  master's  foot, 
lest  he  beat  you  from  the  kennel." 

"  Your  tongue  is  keen,  wife,  but  your  speech  dull,"  re- 
plied Rudulf,  unmoved.  "  There 's  little  wit  to  be  found  in 
your  jeering  talk." 

"  It  may  prove  a  biting  jest  when  the  queen's  hound 


?** 


jj 

i 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

comes  to  lie  in  the  kennel  of  the  king's  dog.  At,  my  Grey 
Wolf !  your  ears  are  keen  for  the  footfall  of  sword-foes,  but 
you  do  not  hear  the  tread  of  those  who  come  creeping  from 
the  king's  hall." 

"How,  then;   what  charges  —  " 

"  Does  the  Count  of  the  mark  ask  that,  when  he  who 
should  be  most  zealous  of  all  in  doing  the  king's  will  har- 
bors in  his  very  bed  one  accused  of  heathen  witchery, — 
one  who  has  put  her  curse  upon  the  king  himself  and  upon 
his  hearth-kin?  " 

"  A  hero  so  great  as  Karl  has  little  to  fear  from  the 
curse  of  a  Wend  woman.  He  will  not  think  it  ill  that  I 
cherish  my  wife,  the  mother  of  his  queen." 

"  No  mother  —  nor  father,  Grey  Wolf !  It  is  the  king's 
bed-mate  who  stirs  him  to  strike  those  who  gave  her  life." 

"  That  I  do  not  believe." 

"  Come,  then,  and  hear  it  from  one  who  can  swear 
to  the  tale."  Many  are  to  meet  at  Hardrat's  hall,  to  talk 
of  this,  among  other  matters.  Would  it  not  be  well  for 
Count  Olvir  and  yourself  to  join  them?" 

"  That  is  a  half-day's  ride  to  the  north,  wife." 

"  The  Sorbs  lie  quiet,  and  you  need  take  none  of  your 
followers  from  the  war-ring.  It  will  be  no  council,  calling 
for  a  show  of  henchmen;  so,  unless  you  fear  treachery 
from  your  own  folk  —  " 

"Silence,  woman!  I've  had  enough  of  jeering. 
Neither  the  Dane  hawk  nor  the  Grey  Wolf  fears  to  roam 
alone  in  the  forest.  When  does  the  beer-sot  look  for  his 
guests?" 

"  The  drunkard  has  again  given  over  his  bowl.  You 
will  find  a  sober  host.  Come  in  time  for  the  noon  meal. 
Yet  stay !  There  may  be  horse-flesh  in  the  trenchers.  Is 
the  Dane  hawk  so  zealous  a  Christian  that  the  meat  of 
sacrifice  —  " 

414 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"How  of  the  Christian  host  and  this  my  hearth- 
friend?"  laughed  Olvir.  "I  pledge  myself  to  eat  of  the 
same  dish,  if  the  fare  is  savory." 

"  It  is  well.  There  will  be  room  for  all  at  Hardrat's 
board.  Now  I  go  before  you,"  replied  the  woman,  and, 
wrapping  her  grey  cloak  about  her,  she  glided  out  into  the 
night. 

Olvir  watched  her  go,  and  then  he  turned  gravely  to 
his  companion. 

"  I  would  speak  out  my  inmost  thought,"  he  said. 
"  Could  youth  come  again  to  my  host,  would  he  choose  for 
the  second  time  to  wed  with  a  worker  of  spells?  " 

"  It  is  five  and  twenty  years  since,  in  the  land  beyond 
the  Sorb  country,  the  Wend  chief's  daughter  cut  free  the 
withes  which  bound  me,  and  fled  away  at  my  side.  I  have 
never  since  had  cause  to  grieve  that  we  plighted  troth  on 
the  Saale  bank.  I  do  not  lay  it  upon  her  that  she  has  now 
brought  us  an  ill  boding." 

"  Nor  I.    She  is  but  the  tidings-bearer." 

"  Bitter  tidings ! "  growled  Rudulf,  and  he  began  to 
whet  his  sword. 


CHAPTER  XX 

Strife  and  din  in  the  hall, 
Cups  smitten  asunder; 
Men  lay  low  in  blood  — 

LAY  OF  HAMDIR. 

UT  with  the  morning  the  Grey 
Wolf's  thoughts  had  lightened. 
Side  by  side,  he  and  Olvir  rode 
through  the  ancient  forest,  as, 
years  before,  they  had  ridden 
i  through  the  beech-wood  to 
Fulda.  The  black  stallion  was 
dead,  pierced  by  a  Saxon  spear. 
,>  In  his  stead,  the  Thuringian  rode 
a  long-limbed  horse  of  coursing 
blood,  the  gift  of  the  king.  Even  Zora  had  to  lengthen  her 
stride  when  the  big  roan  raced  across  the  meadows. 

As  it  chanced,  however,  the  roan  cast  a  shoe  and  went 
lame,  so  that  the  journey,  which  began  so  briskly,  ended 
in  a  walk.  When  the  two  counts  rode  into  the  yard  of 
Hardrat's  burg,  the  horses  of  their  fellow-guests  were 
already  standing  in  their  stalls,  and  their  riders  were  within 
the  feast-hall,  sitting  before  half-emptied  trenchers.  But 
the  host  himself  came  out  to  do  the  last  guests  honor,  and 
they  returned  his  greetings  with  heartiness  when  they  saw 
that  his  face,  though  harsh  and  morose,  had  lost  the  purple 
flush  and  bloated  look  of  the  drunkard. 

"  Again  I  welcome  our  Grey  Wolf  and  that  Dane  hawk 
whose  fame  is  in  the  mouth  of  every  hero,"  the  host  re- 

416 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

peated.  "  Let  them  enter  and  sit  at  meat  with  those  who 
bear  them  good-will.  My  head  groom  shall  see  to  their 
horses.  He  is  a  skilled  smith,  and  the  forge  is  red.  The 
Count  of  the  mark  will  find  his  roan  shod  again  for  the 
homeward  riding." 

"  A  good  deed,  —  for  which  I  give  thanks,"  answered 
Rudulf. 

"  Stay  a  moment,"  said  Olvir,  as  Hardrat  turned  to 
lead  the  way  into  the  hall.  "  Bid  your  groom  leave  my 
mare  free  in  the  yard.  She  is  not  used  to  being  stall-tied." 

"  As  you  wish,  hero.  I  do  not  wonder  that  you  give 
thought  to  a  steed  that  has  borne  you  through  two  pitched 
battles  and  countless  frays.  Men  say  you  care  for  the  beast 
as  one  of  kin  to  you." 

"  They  say  true.  More  than  once  she  has  borne  me  out 
of  the  closing  hand  of  Loki's  daughter.  It  may  be  that  she 
will  again  carry  me  through  battle,  though  at  heart  I  now 
long  for  peace.  Her  strength  has  at  last  come  again,  and 
though  the  years  lie  heavily  upon  her,  she  can  yet  outrace 
any  courser  other  than  one  of  her  own  blood." 

"  That  I-  can  well  believe,  hero,"  replied  Hardrat,  and 
he  led  in  his  guests. 

Within  the  skin-hung  feast-hall  the  late-comers  found 
that  the  seats  of  honor,  on  the  right  and  left  hand  of  the 
host,  had  been  kept  waiting  for  them.  Next  below  Rudulf's 
place  on  the  bench  sat  a  huge  Wend  warrior,  beside  whom 
was  the  Wend  witch  in  her  grey  cloak. 

Upon  the  entrance  of  the  counts,  many  of  the  guests 
had  risen,  with  brimming  horn  or  bowl,  to  drink  health  to 
them,  and  Rudulf,  as  he  passed  up  the  table,  greeted  many 
by  name.  But  the  black-bearded  Wend  giant  was  bent  over 
his  trencher,  and  the  old  count  took  his  seat  on  the  bench 
beside  him,  with  a  puzzled  shake  of  his  grisly,  bristling 
head. 

27  417 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  By  the  fiend  Odin !  "  he  muttered ;  "  have  I  come  here 
to  sit  with  Karl's  foes?  " 

"  Be  at  ease,  my  lord !  "  entreated  his  wife.  "  Would  I 
have  asked  you  to  this  feast  had  not  all  been  well?  " 

"  All  sit  here  as  friends,  hero,"  added  Hardrat,  ear- 
nestly. "  We  meet  like  kinsmen,  to  talk  upon  weighty 
matters.  Only  give  us  fair  hearing,  and  I  pledge  myself 
you  will  not  rue  your  coming." 

"  Let  be,  then.    I  will  listen,"  replied  Rudulf. 

"  Well  said ! "  called  out  one  of  the  guests,  and  many 
echoed  the  words. 

Hardrat  rose,  smiling,  and  addressed  Olvir.  "The 
guests  sit  in  their  grey  iron  coats,  and  you  in  your  linked 
mail,  hero,  as  is  fitting  for  warriors  gathered  in  council. 
Yet  all  heads  other  than  your  own  are  bare  of  helmet.  Un- 
cover your  sunbright  locks,  and  sit  at  ease." 

"  The  war-cap  rests  lightly  upon  the  head  of  a  viking," 
replied  Olvir. 

"  Count  Olvir  doubts  the  faith  of  his  host,"  sneered 
Hardrat.  "  Let  him  sit  with  naked  sword  across  his 
trencher.  We  ask  only  that,  with  the  Grey  Wolf,  he  hear 
out  whatever  his  fellow-guests  would  say." 

"I  will  listen  till  all  is  said,"  replied  Olvir,  coldly. 
"  But,  instead  of  the  sword,  I  would  have  meat  upon  my 
trencher." 

"  Bring  mead  and  the  mead-horns  for  my  high  guests," 
called  Hardrat. 

"  I  pledge  the  host  in  the  black  mead,"  said  Rudulf,  as 
a  Sorb  thrall  handed  him  the  drink. 

"I  pledge  the  Grey  Wolf  on  my  sword,"  answered 
Hardrat.  "  No  longer  does  the  wassail-bowl  touch  my  lips. 
I  take  thought  of  higher  matters." 

"Well  said,  hero!"  exclaimed  the  Wend  woman. 
"And  now,  men  of  the  forest  land,  give  heed  while  our 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

host  tells  what  happened  on  the  Moselle,  before  the  passing 
away  of  the  good  Queen  Hildegarde." 

Hardrat  rose  heavily,  his  face  flushed  and  forbidding. 

"  It  is  hard  for  a  man  to  speak  of  his  shame,"  he  began 
in  a  harsh  voice.  "  The  shame  of  my  drunkenness  is  the 
greater  because  it  has  blurred  that  which  I  would  now 
recall.  I  owe  it  to  the  crafty  wit  of  the  alruna  that  I  have 
at  last  fished  up  the  memory  from  the  bottom  of  the  wine- 
jar,  where  I  sought  to  drown  it.  Count  Olvir  will  remem- 
ber the  wolf-chase  on  the  frozen  Moselle,  since  it  was  then 
he  won  Karl's  pledge  for  his  daughter's  hand." 

"  I  remember,"  replied  Olvir ;  and  his  eyes  glowed  as 
he  saw  again  the  burning  witch-hut  in  the  midst  of  the 
storm-swirl,  and  his  princess,  standing  with  him  before  the 
good  abbot  to  plight  their  troth. 

But  the  harsh  voice  of  Liutrad's  red  pig  broke  in  on  the 
pleasant  musing,  — "  Give  heed,  then,  Dane  hawk,  and 
you,  Grey  Wolf  of  the  mark.  To  all  that  I  now  say,  I  take 
oath  on  my  sword  —  by  the  holy  cross  —  by  all  the  fiend- 
gods  of  the  Saxons  and  our  own  heathen  fathers!  At 
Thionville,  when  the  Yule  games  were  closing,  Fastrada, 
daughter  of  Rudulf,  lured  me  to  race  down  the  frozen 
Moselle  on  the  track  of  certain  skaters.  Count  Olvir  will 
tell  Count  Rudulf  that  those  skaters  were  himself,  the 
queen,  the  king's  daughter,  and  others." 

"  So  far  the  tale  is  true,"  assented  Olvir. 

"No  less  what  follows,"  retorted  Hardrat;  "only,  I 
wish  it  were  clearer  to  the  eye  of  my  memory.  I  see  the 
gnarled  oak  stems  race  past  on  either  side  as  we  sweep 
down  the  blue  road  of  the  frost-giant.  Borne  up  by  the 
spell  of  her  witch-ring,  the  maiden  at  my  side  skims  along 
with  magic  swiftness.  Hardly  can  I,  a  skilled  ice-runner, 
keep  the  pace.  But  when  we  glide  in  the  depths  of  the 
winter  forest,  the  maiden  makes  pretence  of  a  sprain.  I 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

see  a  fire  burning  on  the  river-bank.  The  maiden  sits 
before  it,  muttering  spells  to  drive  away  the  nixie  that  has 
seized  her  ankle,  —  such  is  her  claim;  but  she  has  lied. 
She  utters  the  fearful  spell  of  the  werwolf,  and  from  the 
pouch  casts  pieces  of  an  evil  charm  upon  the  snow  and  in 
the  flames.  Foul  with  the  stench  of  the  burning  drug,  the 
smoke  rolls  low  beneath  the  naked  boughs.  Grisly  shapes 
peer  out  from  among  the  alder  stems ;  the  wood  resounds 
with  the  yelling  of  the  werwolves  —  " 

Panting  heavily,  the  speaker  paused  to  wipe  away  the 
great  drops  which  had  gathered  on  his  forehead.  In  his 
glaring  eyes  and  the  sweat  of  fear,  the  guests  saw  full  proof 
that  their  host  did  not  lie.  Many  shuddered  in  the  bright 
sunlight,  and  there  was  a  hush  in  the  hall  as  Hardrat  re- 
sumed his  seat.  All  turned  silently  to  old  Rudulf,  who, 
with  his  grisly  head  bent  forward  between  his  shoulders, 
sat  glaring  at  the  guests  from  his  narrow  slant  eyes,  more 
like  one  of  the  evil  beings  of  whom  Hardrat  had  spoken 
than  a  natural  man.  But  the  Grey  Wolf  restrained  the  fury 
which  raged  in  his  savage  breast,  and  the  silence  was 
broken  only  by  the  heavy  breathing  of  the  guests.  Then 
the  Wend  woman  rose  up. 

"  I  read  the  faces  of  the  heroes,"  she  said.  "  None  here 
doubts  the  truth  of  our  host's  tale." 

"  Hold,  dame ;  do  not  speak  for  all,"  broke  in  Olvir. 
"  I  believe  that  Count  Hardrat  has  told  what  to  him  is  the 
truth ;  yet  I  doubt  his  tale.  He  has  himself  spoken  of  the 
wine-jar  —  the  mead-cask  were  enough!  Men  in  drink 
often  see  beasts  unknown  to  sober  eyes.  What  is  more,  I 
see  no  cause  for  your  daughter  to  dabble  in  black  magic." 

"  My  daughter,  ay ;  she  was  then  my  daughter,  —  an 
apt  daughter  of  the  Wend  witch!  Shall  I  tell  how  the 
witch's  daughter  whispered  in  the  ears  of  her  mother  the 
tale  of  her  wild  vengeance?  —  of  the  drawing  of  the  wolf- 

420 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

pack;  of  the  luring  of  Pepin's  son,  and  how,  when  Karl 
would  have  given  her  love  without  the  queen's  crown,  she 
sent  him  on  down  the  ice-street,  to  find  his  bairns  and  his 
bed-mate  in  the  jaws  of  the  grey  ones?  She  told  all  to  her 
mother  while  the  storm-fiends  howled  about  the  forest  hut. 
And  then  Karl  and  his  Dane  hawk  came  faring  safe  with 
the  others  to  the  witch's  hearth,  and  that  false  trull  fawned 
upon  those  whom  she  had  sought  to  destroy.  The  fiend- 
gods  bear  me  witness ;  she  fawned  upon  her  foe,  and  for- 
swore the  mother  who  bare  her ! " 

Old  Rudulf's  fist  fell  upon  the  table  in  a  blow  that  split 
the  oaken  board. 

"  God  in  Heaven !  "  he  yelled ;  "  would  that  my  child 
had  come  into  the  world  still-born!  Hate  and  vengeance, 
—  such  befitted  the  Grey  Wolf's  daughter;  but  lying  — 
lying  and  fawning !  " 

"Withhold  your  fury,  lair-mate,"  said  the  woman; 
and  even  Olvir  shuddered  to  hear  her  mocking  laughter. 

The  Grey  Wolf  glared  at  his  scoffing  wife;  but  she 
threw  back  her  cloak,  and  withstood  his  look  with  the  cold 
glitter  of  her  sunken  eyes.  The  menacing  light  died  out  of 
the  count's  green  eyes.  He  cast  a  crafty  glance  about  the 
hall,  and  said  sullenly:  "Take  joy  of  your  deed,  wife! 
My  heart  is  now  cold  and  hard  like  the  flint-rock.  I  listen." 

"  Listen,  then,  childless  man !  Shall  I  tell  more  of  that 
maiden  who  was  fated  to  wed  the  grey-eyed  king?  The 
little  birds  have  twittered  many  tales  in  my  ears.  But  no ; 
our  host  shall  speak  again.  He  fared  to  Paderborn  when 
Karl  held  the  assembly  of  his  lordlings,  —  wretched 
mockery  of  the  day  when  the  free  folk  of  the  shires  gath- 
ered together  under  the  holy  oaks,  to  make  and  unmake 
their  own  laws.  The  red  boar  has  come  from  the  king's 
hall,  and  now  I  know  that  neither  yourself  nor  the  Dane 
hawk  will  scoff  at  his  tidings." 

421 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  The  lie  is  most  subtle  which  is  mingled  with  truth," 
said  Olvir. 

Hardrat  rose  to  face  the  Northman  with  a  heavy  frown. 
"  Enough  of  jeering,  Dane,"  he  said.  "  I  do  not  ask  your- 
self or  Count  Rudulf  to  believe  what  I  say  of  the  king's  ill- 
will  toward  you  both.  That  you  will  know  shortly,  when 
Worad  conies  faring  to  the  Sorb  Mark.  It  will  be  joyous 
for  the  Grey  Wolf  when  he  sees  the  Wend  king's  daughter 
trampled  in  the  mire;  joyous  for  the  Dane  hawk  when, 
fleeing  down  Rhine  Stream,  he  hears  the  wedding  bell  of 
Worad  and  the  king's  daughter." 

"  Beware ! "  lisped  Olvir,  softly,  and  his  face  went 
white. 

The  Thuringian  turned  quickly  to  his  fellow-plotters. 

"  Listen  to  me,  heroes  of  the  forest  land ! "  he  called. 
"  If  those  who  sit  beside  me  are  men,  I  have  said  enough 
to  rouse  them*  We  will  talk  now  of  that  which  concerns 
all,  —  of  how  the  fierce  werwolf  at  the  side  of  Pepin's  son 
has  hardened  his  heart  to  fire  and  slaughter,  has  inflamed 
his  wrath  against  all  free-minded  men.  He  turns  from 
those  who  uphold  his  throne ;  he  dooms  without  cause  the 
faithful  counts.  Men  say  he  is  great,  —  that  none  may 
withstand  him.  The  bear  is  king  of  beasts ;  yet  I  have  seen 
him  baited  by  the  hounds.  We  shall  not  stand  alone. 
How  is  minded  the-noble  Lombard  Adelchis,  whose  father, 
Desiderius,  shorn  and  uncrowned,  lies  cooped  among  the 
meek  brothers  at  Corbie,  praying  for  vengeance?  Ask  the 
heart's  wish  of  Tassilo,  Duke  of  Bavaria,  and  of  his  Lom- 
bard wife.  The  haughty  Agilofingian  has  little  cause  to 
bless  Pepin's  son.  All  goes  well !  The  whole  of  Italy  will 
welcome  the  son  of  Desiderius  and  his  Greek  host.  Old 
Barnard  grows  dull  with  his  fatness.  Count  William  of 
Toulouse  fares  far  into  Saracen  Land,  and  the  fierce 
King  Abd-er-Rahman  will  keep  him  busied;  while  here 

422 


-.' 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

in  the  North  all  the  heroes  of  Thuringia  are  with  us.  Then, 
too,  Wittikind  — " 

"Het!  the  Saxon  hero  waits  in  Sigfrid's  hall,  ever 
ready ! "  cried  the  Wend  woman.  "  He  will  come  again 
with  a  Dane  host.  Bid  his  blood-sprinkled  folk  take  heart ! 
Yet  another  host  shall  aid  them  to  strike  the  cruel  Frank. 
My  father's  warriors  shall  ride  to  join  in  the  baiting  of  the 
Frank  bear.  In  Wend  Land  men  have  not  yet  forgotten  the 
daughter  of  the  Snake." 

"  Never  shall  Karl  return  across  the  Rhine ! "  cried 
Hardrat;  and  he  rose  to  pass  down  the  hall. 

At  once  the  guests  shouted  their  approval:  "The 
pledge!  the  pledge!  Let  all  taste  the  red  drink  of 
sacrifice!" 

Olvir  stared  at  the  shouting  plotters,  and  then  his  gaze 
fixed  on  Cqunt  Hardrat,  returning  up  the  hall  with  a  copper 
bowl  whose  rim  was  streaked  with  dark  red. 

"  Count  of  the  mark,"  he  asked,  a  strange  smile  on  his 
lips,  "  have  you  ever  heard  sung  the  Lay  of  Hamdir?  It 
ends  somewhat  after  this  fashion: 

" '  At  the  hall's  gable-end 
Fell  Sorli  to  earth, 
But  Hamdir  lay  low 
At  the  end  of  the  house.' " 


Rudulf  made  no  reply.  His  slit  eyes  were  fixed  in  a 
hungry  stare  upon  the  bulky  form  of  his  black-bearded 
bench-mate.  The  Wend  had  been  drinking  steadily  of  the 
mead,  and  the  powerful  drink  was  already  rising  to  his 
head.  Drawn  by  the  look  of  the  old  count,  he  turned  his 
bloodshot  eyes  upon  him  in  an  insolent  leer. 

"  Ho,  Karl's  dog,"  he  jeered ;  "  when  the  bear  is  baited, 
mine  shall  be  his  bed-mate;  nor  shall  I  trouble  your 
priests." 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Rudulf  rose  up  quietly,  as  one  who  would  address  the 
company.  The  guests  on  either  side  of  the  table  stilled 
their  loud  talk,  and  turned  expectantly  to  the  Count  of  the 
mark.  For  a  little,  he  stood  silent  before  them,  his  brist- 
ling face  thrust  forward,  his  narrow-lidded  eyes  blinking. 
Then,  suddenly,  he  bared  his  corded  arms,  and  his  voice 
roared  through  the  hall :  "  Traitors  to  Karl !  thus  the  Grey 
Wolf  pledges  you  friendship !  " 

Swiftly  the  old  wrestler  stooped,  and  his  terrible  grip 
closed  about  the  giant  Wend.  The  man  had  no  time  to  call 
upon  his  bull-strength.  Caught  fast  in  the  fatal  hold,  he 
was  bent  backward;  there  came  a  snapping  as  of  a  dry 
twig.  —  The  Grey  Wolf  loosed  his  hold  of  the  quivering 
corpse,  to  spring  at  another  victim.  But  his  wife  stood 
between,  and  before  he  could  pass  her,  the  man  had  flung 
himself  beneath  the  table. 

Then  the  hall  resounded  with  wild  shouts  and  the 
clang  of  swords  torn  from  their  sheaths.  The  terrified 
house-slaves  fled  screaming  into  the  open,  or  crouched 
against  the  wall,  as  the  Thuringians  rushed  forward  to 
avenge  their  fellow-plotter.  Olvir  leaped  around  beside 
Rudulf,  and  thrust  him  forward. 

"  To  the  door!  to  the  door!  "  he  cried. 

"  I  go  —  for  your  sake,"  growled  the  old  count,  and 
his  sword  circled  about  his  grisly  head. 

"  We  go  in  peace,"  said  the  Wend  woman.  She  flung 
the  cloak  from  her  head,  and  glided,  with  upraised  hand, 
between  her  lord  and  the  threatening  Thuringians.  "  Make 
way,  heroes !  Bear  in  mind  your  pledge  to  me." 

"  Stand  aside,  Wend-wif e !  "  commanded  the  foremost 
guest. 

"  Make  way  yourself,  dog !  I  see  a  bloody  sprite  beside 
you." 

The  Thuringian  flung  up  his  arm  to  ward  off  the 
424 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

woman's  evil  glance.  "  That  for  your  boding,  witch !  "  he 
cried,  and  she  fell  to  his  stabbing  sword.  The  frightened 
weasels  scurried,  squeaking,  from  the  cloak  of  their  mis- 
tress, to  hide  beneath  the  table.  Upon  the  slain  witch  fell 
the  body  of  her  slayer,  struck  down  by  Rudulf. 

About  the  two  friends  the  grey-armored  Thuringians 
closed  fast  in  the  doom-ring.  Fierce  blows  rained  down, 
—  blade  rang  upon  blade  or  clashed  against  war-gear. 
Within  the  ring,  the  two,  standing  back  to  back,  fought 
their  way  steadily  toward  the  door.  The  Thuringians 
could  not  withstand  the  mad  rage  of  Rudulf  s  attack  or 
Olvir's  cold  white  fury.  They  fell  back  continually  before 
the  counts ;  but,  from  side  and  rear,  they  thrust  and  struck 
as  at  maddened  wolves. 

Now  and  again  one  of  their  number  fell  to  Al-hatif  s 
stabs  or  the  fierce  downsweep  of  the  Grey  Wolfs  sword. 
In  turn,  their  blades  beat  like  flails  upon  the  doomed  men. 
Not  even  Olvir's  triple  mail  was  proof  against  their  blows. 
Soon  blood  was  seeping  through  the  netted  rings.  Only 
the  blue  steel  of  his  helmet  saved  his  head  from  a  splitting ; 
Al-hatif  was  far  too  light  to  ward  off  the  heavy  longswords. 
Already  Rudulf  was  bleeding  from  many  gashes ;  his  head 
was  a  mass  of  wounds.  Still  he  fought  on  like  a  mad  beast. 
He  fell  at  the  very  threshold  of  the  open  door,  pierced 
through  by  Hardrat's  boar-spear. 

At  the  death-cry  of  the  hero,  Olvir  sprang  about,  and 
his  sword  clipped  the  point  of  the  thrusting  lance.  Hardrat 
shrank  back  to  draw  his  sword.  The  Northman  leaped 
through  the  doorway,  calling  loudly  in  Arabic. 

Across  the  courtyard  Zora  came  plunging  to  meet  her 
master,  and  her  hoof  struck  down  the  groom  who  sought 
to  hold  her.  Olvir  vaulted  into  the  saddle ;  he  bent  forward 
on  the  mare's  neck,  and  a  sharp  hiss  burst  from  his  lips. 
Zora  leaped  away  like  an  arrow.  The  fierce  Thuringians, 

425 


j) 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

bursting  out  from  the  hall,  called  upon  the  grooms  to  close 
the  gate.  But  before  the  nearest  man  could  act,  the  red 
mare  and  her  terrible  rider  were  upon  him.  He  flung  him- 
self flat  before  them,  and  Zora  leaped  over  the  man,  out 
upon  the  open  hillside. 


CHAPTER  XXI 


Black  deeds  and  ill 
Have  they  been  a-doing, 


Evil  rede 

Have  they  wrought  at  last. 

LAY  OF  SIGURD. 


OT  from  fear  of  pursuit,  but 
because  of  that  which  he  bore 
with  him,  Olvir  urged  the  red 
tare  to  her  utmost  speed. 
Never  even  in  her  prime  had 
Zora  coursed  over  hill  and 
icadow  at  a  swifter  pace.  But 
the  way  was  long,  and  even  her 
easy,  swinging  gait  was  agony 
to  the  wounded  man.  When  at 
last  she  leaped  into  the  war-ring  on  the  Saale  bank,  her  red 
coat  was  wet  with  the  blood  of  her  rider.  He  lay  upon  her 
neck,  clutching  at  the  silky  mane,  so  far  gone  that,  when 
Floki  caught  him  from  the  saddle,  he  could  gasp  out  but 
a  few  brief  words:  "To  the  little  vala!  I  Ve  fought  my 
last  fight!" 

Then  darkness  fell  upon  him,  and  he  lay  in  Floki's 
arms  as  one  dead. 

Deftly  the  grim  vikings  stanched  the  wounds  of  their 
earl  and  applied  healing  salves. 

"  It  is  but  blood-loss,"  said  Floki.  "  In  a  day,  I  wager, 
he  calls  for  his  mare.  But  now  we  do  his  bidding.  Bring 
a  litter." 

So  it  was  that  when  Olvir  awoke  from  his  swoon,  he 
found  himself  swinging  along  on  the  shoulders  of  four  stout 

427 


L~-L     n-  ~  •  •""  ~     " ^    T      '  Jfc- 

O2OGOCH 

~*&~^&~*s0~*s?--^&-*ss?~* 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


litter-bearers,  well  on  the  road  to  Erfurt,  the  great  market 
of  the  Thuringians.  As  Floki  had  foretold,  he  at  once  called 
for  Zora,  and  rode  into  Erfurt.  There,  hearing  that  Karl 
had  left  Saxon  Land  and  was  already  at  Cologne,  on  his 
way  to  Attigny,  he  turned  and  rode  Rhineward.  But 
though  he  sat  his  saddle  all  the  way  to  Fulda,  and  gave  his 
followers  little  rest,  when  he  reached  the  monastery  he 
was  so  utterly  spent  with  weariness  and  pain  that  he  had  to 
lie  over  a  full  week  before  he  could  push  on. 

The  bluff  Northern  monks  spared  themselves  no  pains 
to  justify  their  fame  for  hospitality;  but  Olvir's  thanks, 
though  sincere,  were  briefly  worded,  and  he  had  little  to 
say  to  any  one.  When,  rested  and  almost  healed,  he  made 
ready  to  push  on  Rhineward,  he  handed  to  Abbot  Baugulf 
a  gold  arm-ring,  in  kingly  payment  for  his  keep,  and  stood 
with  unbent  head  while  the  priest  poured  out  his  fervent 
blessing. 

From  Fulda,  Olvir  rode  steadily  Rhineward  on  the  old 
Roman  highway,  though  his  face  spoke  of  doubt  and  inde- 
cision. But  at  Mayence  he  called  Floki  aside,  and  said 
briefly :  "  I  ride  alone  to  King  Karl.  Take  the  men  down 
Rhine  to  Cologne,  and  make  all  ready  aboard  the  longships. 
Fit  them  as  for  a  race,  and  for  the  North  Sea.  I  will  join 
you  in  a  few  days,  and,  with  Freya's  aid,  I  shall  not  come 
alone.  Another  shall  ride  with  me,  whether  Karl  the  King 
is  loath  or  willing." 

"  Ho,  ring-breaker !"  croaked  Floki,  smiling  with  crafty 
triumph.  "  So  we  at  last  fare  back  to  old  Norway,  and  you 
are  minded  to  take  with  you  a  bride.  There  will  be  joy- 
ous howling  when  your  sea-wolves  sight  their  vala.  Yet 
I  am  minded  of  another  matter.  King  Karl  owes  no 
small  fee  for  the  long  service  of  the  hero's  son  and  his 
ready  champions.  Though  we  may  leave  somewhat  has- 
tily, on  our  path  to  Cologne  stands  Ingleheim,  the  king's 

428 


FOR        HE    WH         E    CHRIST 


new  burg,  which  men  say  is  filled  with  gold  and  all  man- 
ner of  loot." 

"  By  Thor !  "  cried  Olvir,  his  eyes  flaming ;  "  were  I 
sure  the  Frank  had  broken  his  pledge,  not  Ingleheim  alone 
should  see  sword  and  torch.  As  it  is,  he  may  yet  —  Christ 
grant  he  keep  troth!  .  .  .  No,  old  Crane.  You  must  fare 
your  way,  with  the  peace-thongs  firm  knotted.  If  the 
Norns  have  so  woven,  Zora  will  bear  me  to  the  Rhine 
far  in  the  lead  of  the  following  Franks ;  and  there 's  rich 
loot  between  Cologne  and  Rhine  Mouth." 

"And  what  if  the  werwolf  snare  you?  Let  me  ride 
with  you,  earl." 

"  I  ride  alone.  No  horse  in  Frank  Land  could  bear  up 
your  weight  in  the  flight  from  Attigny  to  Cologne.  Yet 
again,  I  need  you  to  hold  the  men  in  hand.  Do  not  tell 
them  over-much.  They  will  be  nimble  enough  if  they  but 
know  it  is  for  the  little  vala.  Farewell." 

With  the  word,  Zora  wheeled  and  sprang  away  on  the 
long  ride  to  Treves  and  across  Eastern  Neustria  to  Attigny. 

For  all  her  age  and  the  roughness  of  the  way,  the  red 
mare  could  still  have  covered  the  journey  in  four  days.  But 
Olvir,  mindful  that  he  might  have  need  later  of  the  utmost 
of  her  speed  and  strength,  kept  a  tight  rein  on  the  willing 
mare,  and  was  well  content  to  double  the  time  of  the 
journey. 

So  it  was  that  when  they  came  to  the  Aisne  bank,  a 
little  before  nightfall  of  the  eighth  day,  neither  man  nor 
rider  was  any  the  worse  for  the  long  faring.  After  bath- 
ing in  the  stream,  Olvir  rode  into  Attigny,  under  cover  of 
the  darkness.  The'  little  town  was  swarming  with  people ; 
but  Olvir  avoided  such  of  the  streets  as  were  torchlit,  and, 
having  secured  a  small  room  at  an  inn,  presently  found  a 
messenger  who  would  go  to  the  king's  palace  with  a  token 
for  Liutrad  the  scribe. 

429 


I 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

He  was  seated  alone  in  his  room,  reading  from  his 
Greek  Gospels  by  the  light  of  a  torch,  when  a  deep  voice 
sounded  without  the  door,  and  a  moment  later  the  heavy 
panel  had  opened  and  swung  to  behind  a  huge  figure  in 
sombre  priest  robes.  Olvir  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  white 
tonsure  in  the  midst  of  the  curly  yellow  hair,  as  the  new- 
comer turned  to  bar  the  door,  and  then  he  was  gazing  up 
into  Liutrad's  honest,  smiling  face. 

"  Ring-breaker !  Earl !  "  —  how  the  joyously  uttered 
words  called  up  the  care-free  past,  when  the  longships  rode 
the  storm  waves,  or  they  two  stood  side  by  side  in  the 
sword-game !  For  the  moment,  at  least,  it  was  not  Liutrad 
the  priest,  but  Liutrad  Erlingson,  who  put  his  great  hands 
on  the  shoulders  of  his  friend,  and  met  his  keen  glance  with 
a  look  of  boyish  delight. 

"  Luck  to  you,  earl ! "  he  cried.  "  You  come  in 
good  time.  It  is  but  three  days  since  Wittikind  and  Alf 
entered  Attigny,  with  a  long  following  of  Saxon  athelings ; 
and  Deacon  Alcuin  has  won  over  the  heroes  to  peace." 

"  It  would  seem  that  the  bloody  struggle  is  at  last 
ended,"  replied  Olvir.  "I  give  God  praise,  both  for  the 
forest-dwellers  and  for  those  who  have  crushed  them." 

"And  for  yourself,  earl!  Our  lord  king's  face  bears 
more  of  its  old-time  cheerfulness." 

"  It  well  may !  I  had  thought  the  Saxons  unyielding. 
For  two  years  and  more  he  has  harried  their  land  in  sum- 
mer and  in  winter.  How  came  the  great  war-earl  —  " 

"  He  is  broken  at  last ;  I  pray  that  it  may  be  for  good. 
As  you  doubtless  have  heard,  after  the  Mayfields  at  Pader- 
born  last  spring,  the  king,  egged  on  by  his  werwolf,  once 
more  set  to  ravaging  beyond  the  Westphalian  Gate.  We 
had  already  marched  to  the  Elbe  and  were  encamped  on  its 
banks,  when  word  came  of  a  plot  between  the  Lombards 
and  the  Duke  of  Bavaria,  and  the  king  thought  better  of  his 

430 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

plan  to  cross  the  Elbe.  But  Wittikind  and  Alf,  thinking 
that  he  was  about  to  come  over  and  lay  waste  all  of  Saxon 
Land  yet  unharried,  sent  to  him,  asking  terms  of  surrender. 
The  king  chose  out  Amalwin  to  go  to  them  with  hostages 
suitable  to  their  rank,  that  they  might  come  to  him  in  per- 
son. Then,  leaving  the  greater  part  of  the  host  in  the 
North,  he  came  Rhineward  by  swift  marches,  and  here  at 
Attigny  made  ready  palace  and  court,  that  the  wild  forest- 
men  might  see  the  greatness  of  his  might  and  kingship.  So 
it  has  come  about  that  Wittikind,  following  after  with 
Amalwin,  has  seen  and  wondered,  and  at  last  bent  to  the 
will  of  Pepin's  son.  Soon  the  war-earl  and  all  those  who 
came  with  him  will  bow  beside  the  holy  font  and  receive 
baptism.  Two  days  more  will  see  the  heathen  become 
Christian." 

"  Christian !  By  Loki,  I  grieve  for  the  Christian 
werwolf,  who'll  now  famish  for  lack  of  her  Saxon 
blood!" 

Liutrad  drew  back,  and  his  face  darkened  with  dread 
and  anger. 

"  God's  curse  on  that  evil  woman !  "  he  cried ;  and  then 
a  sudden  question  sprang  from  his  lips :  "  How  come  you 
here,  earl?" 

"  You  may  well  ask,"  replied  Olvir,  and  he  told  of  the 
plotters  and  the  fight  in  Hardrat's  hall. 

As  he  listened,  Liutrad's  face  cleared  somewhat. 

"  By  Thor,  earl,"  he  exclaimed,  "  that  was  sword-play! 
But  the  best  is  that  you  bring  tidings  of  the  plot.  It  may 
stand  you  in  good  stead."  His  face  darkened  again.  "  God 
knows  you  need  every  vantage.  I  could  swear  by  the  rood 
the  werwolf  has  never  forgotten  how  you  scorned  her,  there 
on  the  Garonne  bank.  Not  for  your  good  did  she  cause  the 
king  to  send  Worad  into  Thuringia,  when  she  met  them  at 
the  Eresburg.  It  is  common  talk  in  the  palace  that  she  is 

431 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

putting  out  her  utmost  craft  to  sever  your  betrothal  bond 
and  wed  Rothada  to  the  Count  of  Metz." 

"  Loki !  "  gasped  Olvir,  white  with  anger.  Years  had 
passed  since  he  had  last  given  way  to  such  passion;  but 
now  the  cold  fury  came  upon  him  with  all  its  old-time 
force.  Liutrad  shrank  back  before  the  look  in  his  earl's 
face. 

"  Calm  yourself,  ring-breaker,"  he  muttered.  "  All 
may  yet  go  well.  In  the  morning  I  will  bring  you  to  the 
king." 

"  The  king,"  repeated  Olvir,  and  then  his  face  flushed 
with  a  sudden  resolve,  and  his  eyes  lost  their  deadly  men- 
ace. "Who  asks  for  the  king?  I  would  speak  with  my 
betrothed." 

"  But  our  lord  king,  —  would  he  not  be  angered?  " 
"  I  would  speak  to  my  betrothed,  alone." 
"Holy  Mother!     Do  not  be  rash,  earl;   you'll  ruin 
all!" 

"  There  is  nothing  to  lose ;  something  may  be  gained. 
I  've  had  enough  of  waiting.    The  king  himself  shall  no 
longer  bar  my  way.     Now  I  would  speak  with  my  be- 
trothed.    She  will  know  best  where  we  may  meet." 
"  You  're  mad,  Olvir!    What  would  you  do?  " 
"  I  do  not  yet  know ;  only,  I  must  speak  with  Rothada. 
As  you  call  me  friend,  seek  out  Berga  her  maid  without 
delay.    I  must  see  the  little  maiden  soon;   else  I  cannot 
answer  for  what  may  follow.    The  fiend  clutches  at  my 
heart." 

"  I  will  go,  Olvir ;  though  it  is  no  light  task." 
"  Then  go  and  tell  all  to  your  grateful  king." 
"Why  reproach  me,  earl?    Is  he  not  my  lord?    And 
yet,  I  risk  his  good-will  to  do  you  favor." 

"  Forgive  me,  lad !  Faul  tears  my  heart-strings.  Go 
now,  and  Freya  aid  you." 

432 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  I  go,  earl.  Yet  first,  a  wolfs-hair.  You  had  best  lie 
close  this  night.  In  the  morning  I  will  bring  you  one  of 
Deacon  Alcuin's  robes.  With  sandals,  you  can  then  fare 
at  will  about  the  burg." 

"  I  '11  wear  no  priestly  footgear ;  but  the  gown  is  well 
thought  of.  Hasten  now.  You  may  yet  see  her  to-night." 


CHAPTER  XXII 


But  we  in  no  wise 
Might  love  withstand, 


And  mine  head  must  I  lay 
On  my  love,  the  ring-breaker. 

LAMENT  OF  ODDRUN. 


IUTRAD  did  not  return  to  the 
inn    until    mid-morning    of   the 
next  day,   and  then  it  was  to 
^•^^  fling  himself  down  with  a  sigh 

f  of  discouragement. 

I  "The   werwolf   is   keen   of 

^^A  eye  and  ear,"  he  muttered. 

*  "Rest    easy,   lad.     You've 

done  your  best.     Another  day 
will  see  fairer  luck." 

"  If  only  Father  Fulrad  were  here  to  aid  us !  Had  he 
lived,  all  would  have  been  well." 

"  I  could  ask  no  more  from  any  friend,  son  of  Erling, 
than  what  you  will  do  for  me.  Now  I  will  eat,  that  my  full 
strength  may  come  to  me." 

"  You  have  not  rested  much  this  night,  Olvir.  Your 
war-gear  shimmers  like  starlit  ice." 

"A  bride  might  use  the  shield  as  mirror,  for  all  its 
dints.  Eat  now.  Here  is  plain  fare,  but  toothsome." 

"  May  Worad  eat  bitter  herbs  when  he  sits  at  board ! 
The  base  wretch,  to  covet  a  friend's  betrothed !  " 

"Waste  no  thought  on  him,  lad.  The  werwolf 
alone  —  " 

"True;  her  ring  holds  him  with  its  magic  glamour, 
even  as  it  has  cast  its  spell  over  our  lord  king." 


FOR    THE    W 


"  Ring  or  no,  she  is  at  the  root  of  all  the  trouble.  The 
world-hero  is  as  wax  in  her  white  hands.  I  have  talked 
much  with  the  Franks  since  you  left  me.  It  is  she  who  has 
turned  away  the  king's  heart  from  mercy.  Not  the  Saxons 
alone,  but  the  nearest  of  his  liegemen  have  suffered  from 
his  harshness ;  and  I  must  have  my  share,  though  the  dints 
in  my  shield  and  helmet  should  read  me  title  to  fairer 
reward.  Ah,  well,  better  luck  in  Skuld's  hand!  Another 
day  may  bring  a  rift  in  the  clouds." 

"  Saints  grant  it ! "  muttered  Liutrad ;  and  the  two 
fell  to  eating  in  moody  silence. 

Yet  Olvir's  confidence  in  the  future  was  not  mistaken. 
Before  evening  Berga  found  Liutrad  a  chance  to  speak  with 
her  mistress ;  and  he  prevailed  upon  Rothada  to  set  a  meet- 
ing for  that  very  night. 

Immediately  after  nightfall  Olvir,  cowled  and  wrapped 
about  in  the  Benedictine  gown  brought  to  him  by  Liutrad, 
strolled  with  his  friend  across  the  burg  and  around  the 
great  bulk  of  the  palace  to  a  shadowy  recess  between 
the  queen's  apartments  and  the  quarters  of  the  court- 
officials.  Here  they  found  Berga  waiting  for  them  be- 
side a  small  door  used  by  the  servants,  and  Liutrad 
addressed  her  openly :  "  Here  is  my  brother  priest  for 
your  sick  friend." 

"  Let  him  follow,"  answered  the  woman,  and  she  led 
the  way  into  the  foul-odored  passage.  Olvir  silently  en- 
tered at  her  heels,  leaving  Liutrad  to  watch  at  the  door. 

Within  was  pitchy  darkness,  broken  only  by  an  occa- 
sional gleam  from  the  rooms  where  the  house-slaves  chat- 
tered over  their  evening  meal  or  lay  about  on  their  straw 
pallets,  easing  the  toil  of  the  day  with  broad  jests  and 
coarse  raillery.  A  flight  of  steps,  steep  and  narrow,  took 
Olvir  and  his  guide  beyond  the  servants'  quarters,  and  in 
the  utter  blackness  the  Northman  had  need  of  his  quick 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


ear  to  follow  the  woman's  lead.  She  glided  softly  from 
passage  to  passage  without  a  word,  stopping  only  for  a 
touch  of  warning  when  the  silence  was  broken  by  the 
muffled  clink  of  Olvir's  mail  beneath  his  monk's  robe. 
Some  little  time  passed  before  the  woman  paused  beside  a 
curtained  doorway. 

"The  princess  waits  within,  hero,"  she  whispered. 
"  Enter,  and  comfort  her.  I  must  watch  over  the  bairns, 
lest  they  waken  and  call  for  their  sister.  May  Freya  soften 
the  king's  heart,  that  your  love  run  smooth ! " 

"  My  thanks  to  the  good  wisher,"  replied  Olvir,  and  he 
stepped  between  the  curtains. 

He  found  himself  in  a  large  chamber,  half  lighted  by 
the  moonbeams  which  streamed  through  the  high,  case- 
mented  window.  Where  the  rays  struck  upon  the  opposite 
wall,  the  grotesque  figures  of  the  tapestry-hangings  stood 
out  with  such  startling  distinctness  that  Olvir  stepped  back 
and  grasped  the  hilt  of  Al-hatif  beneath  his  robe.  But  then 
a  slender  figure  glided  out  into  the  moonlight  from  the 
shadow  beside  the  window,  and  he  ran  forward  to  clasp 
his  betrothed  in  his  arms. 

"  Little  vala,  —  little  vala! "  was  all  he  could  say,  for 
the  words  choked  in  his  throat  at  sight  of  her  tears.. 

For  a  while  she  leaned  her  head  upon  his  shoulder, 
and  wept  as  though  her  heart  would  break ;  and  he  held  her 
to  him,  unable  to  put  into  words  the  tenderness  and  com- 
passion which  filled  his  whole  being.  At  last,  however, 
she  dried  her  tear-wet  face  on  his  robe,  and  looked  up  with 
a  pitiable  attempt  to  be  brave. 

"  My  hero,  my  hero !  "  she  whispered. 

"  Little  vala !  Has  the  witch's  daughter  sucked  your 
blood,  that  you  look  so  white  and  wasted?  May  Hel, 
Loki's  daughter,  wither  the  red  lips  of  that  werwolf!  May 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Cease  —  oh,  cease,  Olvir !  Curses  ever  come  home 
to  the  sender.  This  may  be  the  last  time  we  shall  meet 
here  on  earth.  Let  there  be  no  wormwood  with  the  bitter- 
sweet." 

"  No,  Rothada,  this  is  not  our  last  meeting  here  on  the 
fair  earth." 

"Will  you  then  give  way  to  my  father?  Liutrad 
said  —  " 

"  He  said  aright.  I  will  not  sell  my  soul,  though  it  be 
for  your  father's  kingdom.  Yet,  before  God  and  man,  you 
are  my  betrothed  wife.  I  have  won  you  by  service  such  as 
few  have  given  the  king,  and  —  we  love  each  other.  Your 
father  gave  pledge  he  would  send  for  me,  and  he  broke 
troth.  It  is  hopeless  —  nothing  can  turn  his  course  while 
the  witch's  daughter  drives  —  it  is  hopeless  to  appeal  to 
him." 

"What  then,  Olvir?  Your  words  fill  me  with  dread; 
you  cherish  the  thought  of  some  wild  deed." 

"  Should  it  fill  you  with  dread,  darling,  that  I  would 
have  you  wed  me?  " 

"  No,  dear  one ;  my  heart  sings  with  gladness  at  the 
word.  If  only  it  might  come  true !  " 

"  You  have  but  to  say  it,  king's  daughter." 

"Would  you  have  me  wed  you  without  the  banns, 
Olvir,  —  in  secret?  It  could  not  be,  dear  hero !  When  the 
truth  became  known,  the  anger  of  my  father  would  pass  all 
measure.  He  would  never  forgive  us." 

"  I  look  to  your  father  for  nothing.  He  has  paid  me 
ill  for  loyal  service.  I  shall  now  break  the  bond  which  has 
held  me  to  him.  Beneath  the  priest-robe  you  feel  the  war- 
gear,  king's  daughter.  Zora  is  saddled  for  the  road.  Come ! 
the  night  is  before  us.  Dawn  will  see  us  far  on  our  way  to 
the  Rhine." 

"O  Christ!     O  Holy  Mother,  save  me!"  cried  the 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

girl ;  and  she  shrank  away  from  her  lover,  wide-eyed  and 
trembling. 

"  Listen,  darling ;  listen  to  me !  "  he  protested.  "  I 
would  not  force  you.  Only,  I  beseech  you,  by  the  love  you 
bear  me,  come !  At  Cologne  lie  my  longships,  —  my  ocean- 
racers.  Who  may  overtake  us  when  we  sail  down  Rhine 
Stream?  Haoil  how  the  ships  spring  to  the  bowing  of 
the  long  oars!  Behind  us  lie  the  flat  shores  of  Frisia; 
we  ride  the  wild  North  Sea;  before  us  tower  the  iron 
cliffs  of  old  Norway;  up  Trondheim  Fiord  we  glide, 
where  the  free  men  of  Lade  wait  to  welcome  their  earl 
and  his  bride!" 

The  Northman's  black  eyes  sparkled  in  the  moon- 
light, and  he  held  out  his  arms.  But  still  Rothada  shrank 
away. 

"  It  cannot  be,  dear  hero !  "  she  sighed.  "  It  cannot 
be!" 

"  Where,  then,  is  the  love  of  my  betrothed?  " 

"  I  love  you  none  the  less,  dear,  that  I  cannot  go  with 
you." 

An  agony  of  grief  distorted  Olvir's  face.  He  flung 
himself  down  before  the  girl  and  clasped  her  feet. 

"  Come  with  me,  —  come  with  me ! "  he  begged. 
"  Here  is  only  sorrow  and  parting.  The  king  is  iron." 

"  Yet  I  am  his  daughter.  There  is  still  hope  for  us, 
Olvir.  I  will  plead  with  my  father." 

"And  if  he  deny  you?" 

"  God  forbid!    I  can  then  only  return  to  Chelles." 

"  To  the  cloisters !  My  curse  on  them !  Listen,  king's 
daughter.  You  are  not  fated  for  the  nun's  veil.  That 
would  not  fill  in  fullest  measure  the  spite-cup  of  the 
witch's  daughter.  She  will  wed  you  to  our  girl-faced 
Count  of  Metz." 

"  That  is  no  new  tale  to  me,  Olvir;  yet  I  can  promise 

LQ8 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


you  this  much,  —  I  shall  never  be  the  bride  of  another 
than  yourself.  If  I  may  not  choose  the  cloister,  I  will 
choose  that  which  lies  in  my  bosom." 

"You  bear  my  knife?" 

"  Always  —  ever  ready  for  use  against  the  bearer." 

Rothada  put  her  hand  to  her  breast,  and  the  blue  steel 
of  the  dagger  gleamed  in  the  moonlight.  Olvir  took  the 
blade  from  her,  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 

"  Be  true,  knife  of  my  forging !  "  he  muttered.  "  There 
is  yet  one  hope  —  if  it  fail,  strike  true;  and  when  you 
pierce  her  heart,  I  will  plunge  Al-hatif  into  my  breast." 

"  Olvir !  —  you  grieve  me ;   I  cannot  bear  it ! " 

"Why  grieve,  king's  daughter?  If  we  may  not 
wed  in  this  life,  we  shall  be  united  forever  in  the  life 
beyond." 

"  There  is  still  hope ;  I  will  go  to  my  father 
when  he  is  alone,  and  implore  him  to  grant  us  hap- 
piness." 

"It  may  be  he  will  yield  to  you—  Loki!  What's 
that?  The  hangings  —  " 

Hampered  though  he  was  by  the  priest's  gown, 
Olvir  sprang  across  the  room  with  the  quickness  of 
a  leaping  wolf.  The  tapestry,  torn  from  its  fasten- 
ings by  his  fierce  grasp,  fell  apart  and  exposed  the 
withered  form  of  Kosru  the  leech,  crouched  against  the 
wall. 

«  So  —  it  is  the  werwolf's  dotard,"  said  Olvir,  and  his 
lip  curled  with  a  smile  of  utter  contempt.  But  the  spy 
was  already  grovelling  on  his  face,  terrified  by  the  dagger 
and  the  terrible  look  of  the  Northman  as  he  tore  apart  the 
tapestry. 

"  Lord  —  lord !  —  spare  the  aged !  "  he  babbled.  "  God 
of  Light,  soften  his  heart !  Spare  me,  noble  count !  I  will 
tell  all.  I  will  pay  you  wergild  for  my  life,  —  shining 
'  439  ________ 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

,  —  all  the  scant. hoard  I've  saved  and  put  away  for 
my  helpless  age!" 

Olvir  touched  the  Magian's  head  with  his  buskin, 
and  answered  coldly :  "  Odin  bear  witness  —  the  hoarder's 
heart  is  touched !  He  'd  give  away  his  gold." 

"All  —  all,  to  the  last  penny  —  only  spare  my  life! 
I  will  serve  you ;  I  '11  be  your  slave !  Do  not  thrust  into 
the  grave  one  who  already  totters  on  the  brink ! " 

"The  greyer  the  viper,  the  deadlier  its  venom,"  re- 
joined the  Northman,  in  an  ominous  tone.  "  That  man  is 
dog-wise  who  passes  by  the  evil  worm  because  it  lies  in 
his  path  torpid." 

"  Olvir  —  Olvir,  do  not  slay  the  old  man ! "  cried 
Rothada,  and  she  darted  across  the  chamber,  to  cling  to 
her  lover's  arm.  "  He  has  been  good  to  me,  and  —  and 
he  has  saved  many  lives." 

"Ail  the  king's  daughter  pleads  for  me;  the  maiden 
pleads !  I  have  never  sought  to  do  her  hurt  —  by  the  God 
of  my  fathers,  I  swear  it,  noble  count!  Even  now  I  was 
but  coming  to  fetch  the  queen's  sampler.  How  could  I 
know  you  from  a  priest,  lord?  If  I  hid  behind  the  hang- 
ings, thinking  to  creep  near  and  listen,  I  meant  no  evil. 
Only  forgive  me,  and  I  will  serve  you ;  I  '11  make  con- 
fession how,  with  the  witch  in  the  Moselle  Wood,  I 
brewed  love  potions  for  her  daughter  to  give  the  Lord 
Karolah,  and  how  I  bound  the  queen  in  slumber  with 
my  drugs,  that  the  dark  maiden  might  be  free  to  lure  the 
king  with  her  enticements.  Spare  me,  lord,  and  I  '11  even 
tell  —  " 

"  Go  to  the  priests  with  your  witchery  and  spells," 
broke  in  Olvir,  with  impatient  contempt.  "As  to  your 
lying  pledges,  I  ask  nothing  of  a  miserly  dotard;  nor 
will  I  take  your  oath  for  silence.  This  knife  is  bet- 
ter pledge.  Do  not  forget  its  keen  point,  and  learn  that 
440  __— 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

every  man  among  my  blood-eager  warriors  bears  such 
another  blade.  If  you  betray  me,  by  word  or  by  sign, 
they  will  search  you  out,  though  it  be  from  under  the 
very  seat  of  the  throne.  I  have  spoken.  Now  rise  up 
and  guide  me  back  by  the  way  I  came,  to  the  door  of  the 
slaves." 

"  Ail  the  shadow  of  Azrael  is  upon  me!  The  wrath- 
ful youth  seeks  to  lure  me  from  the  presence  of  the  king's 
daughter,  to  shed  my  blood  in  secret ! " 

"  Grey  fool !  That  is  a  lie  born  of  your  own  treach- 
ery. The  knife  is  the  maiden's;  I  give  it  back  into  her 
own  hand.  Rise  up;  I  would  be  going.  Farewell,  little 
may!  It  is  ill  luck  that  our  parting  must  be  said  before 
such  a  one;  yet  I  trust  to  the  blue  steel  that  he  blots 
all  from  his  memory.  Come  now,  darling,  draw  near  my 
heart." 

"  God  forbid  it  be  for  the  last  time ! "  sobbed  the  girl, 
overcome  by  the  thought.  The  knife  fell  unheeded  from 
her  hand  upon  the  wolfskin  beside  her  as  she  sank,  half 
fainting,  into  Olvir's  arms.  Many  moments  passed  while 
she  lay  on  his  breast,  quivering  with  grief.  Then  Olvir 
kissed  her  forehead,  and  put  her  gently  from  him,  to  spurn 
the  shoulder  of  the  leech. 

"  Up,  dog !  "  he  muttered  harshly.     "  Lead  me  out." 

Kosru  shrank  back,  and  huddled  in  a  shapeless  heap 
against  the  wall. 

"  I  cannot  —  I  cannot  go !  "  he  gasped.  "  A  palsy 
has  stricken  my  limbs.  I  cannot  rise  —  I  swear  to  you, 
lord  count  —  " 

"  Liar !    Stand  up  or  I  —  " 

"  Stay ;  do  not  force  him,  Olvir.  I  will  guide  you 
myself." 

"  To  the  king,  then." 

"My  father!" 

LI 


i 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  Do  you  dream  that  this  coward  could  withhold  his 
secret  from  the  werwolf?  He  fears  my  vengeance;  he 
will  fear  hers  more.  We  will  go  to  the  king,  and  make  an 
end,  either  for  good  or  for  ill." 

"  It  is  well,  dear  hero.  Come ;  my  father  is  in  the 
cell  of  Deacon  Alcuin." 


442 


CHAPTER  XXIII 


Nor  shall  I  leave  life 
Ere  the  keen  lord, 


The  eager  in  sword-play, 
My  hand  shall  make  end  of. 

LAY  OF  GUDRUN. 


OR  a  while  the  Magian  waited 
as  the  lovers  had  left  him,  ap- 
pearing more  like  a  careless 
heap  of  yellow  robes  than  a 
living  man.  At  last,  gaining  a 
little  courage  from  the  silence, 
he  thrust  out  his  hooked  nose 
and  bald  head,  like  an  old  vul- 
ture peering  over  a  carcass. 
The  glint  of  the  forgotten  dag- 
ger drew  his  bleared  gaze,  and  he  glared  at  the  cold  blade 
in  a  fascination  of  terror.  Soon,  however,  the  silver  hilt 
caught  his  eye,  and  his  fear  gave  way  to  greed.  A  scrawny 
hand  followed  the  head  from  the  yellow  heap,  reaching 
out  to  clutch  the  treasure.  But  then  a  soft  step  sounded 
in  the  doorway,  and  the  leech  drew  back  into  his  robes, 
livid  with  abject  fear. 

The  curtains  of  the  doorway  parted,  and  Fastrada, 
radiant  in  the  splendor  of  her  jewels  and  her  voluptuous 
beauty,  advanced  slowly  into  the  room.  A  little  way  from 
the  entrance,  she  paused  to  glance  carelessly  across  the 
chamber,  and  then  she  stretched  her  arms  above  her  head 
with  the  lazy  gracefulness  of  a  cat. 

"At,  Hertha,"  she  purred,  "you'll  lack  service  this 
night.  The  laggard  wizard  has  been  called  to  dose  some 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

filthy  slave,  and  I  Ve  waited  till  sleep  weighs  down  my  eye- 
lids. Would  that  I  were  less  drowsy !  The  king  is  pleased 
that  I  ply  needle  with  such  industry.  It  would  give  me 
double  pleasure  to  sit  by  and  watch  the  harlot's  daughter 
finish  the  piece.  But  it's  pleasant  these  chilly  nights  to 
creep  beneath  the  silken  coverlets.  I  '11  go  now.  Faul ! 
Who 's  been  at  my  tapestries?  Ah,  Kosru!  Is  that  you?  " 
•  "  Pity,  gracious  queen !  have  compassion  on  your 
slave !  "  whined  the  leech.  "  A  palsy  has  stricken  my  limbs. 
As  I  entered,  the  stroke  came  upon  me.  The  hangings 
tore  in  my  grasp  as  I  fell." 

"Ah  —  and  how  came  this  here?"  demanded  the 
queen,  pointing  to  the  dagger  on  the  wolfskin  rug  before 
the  Magian. 

"That  knife?    I  had  not  seen  it,  gracious  dame." 

"  You  lie,  Kosru,"  replied  Fastrada,  and,  stooping  for 
the  dagger,  she  held  it  up  before  her  in  the  moonlight. 
As  she  looked  at  it,  her  lips  drew  apart  in  a  cruel  smile, 
and  her  eyes  sparkled. 

"  This  is  no  Frank  blade,  nor  is  it  of  Saracen  forging," 
she  said  softly.  "  On  the  hilt  are  Norse  runes.  I  Ve  seen 
it  before  —  at  the  belt  of  that  false  Dane !  It  is  well  for 
you  that  you  should  speak  out,  Kosru." 

"  Gracious  dame  —  light  of  Karolah's  eyes !  "  stam- 
mered the  leech.  "  I  have  lied ;  but,  in  truth,  I  am  stricken 
with  a  palsy.  I  feared  your  anger,  and  so  I  lied." 

"  Speak  out !  The  Dane  was  here  to  keep  tryst  with 
that  sly  trull!" 

"  Ai  —  at  I  They  were  here,  sultana,  —  he  and  the 
king's  daughter.  I  sought  to  creep  around  behind  the 
hangings ;  but  the  dust  set  me  to  coughing.  My  throat  — " 

"  And  then  he  came  upon  you !     I  can  see  him  leap 
—  the  bright  hero !    Yet  you  live.    There  's  no  blood  on 
the  blade.    How  came  he  to  spare  you?  " 
444 


CH 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"I  —  I  know  not,  gracious  queen.  The  king's  daugh- 
ter pleaded  for  me  —  and  I  gave  promise  —  " 

"  Ah,  I  had  not  thought  him  so  foolish.  And  to  leave 
the  knife  to  tell  the  tale.  Where  were  his  keen  wits? 
He  might  as  well  have  left  the  knife  in  your  heart.  Heil 
The  Dane  left  his  knife  in  the  heart  of  the  king's  leech,  — 
murder  at  the  door  of  the  king's  chamber!  Magian,  that 
was  a  luckless  cough  for  you  —  Magian !  " 

A  swift  movement  of  the  supple,  gem-flashing  hand, 
and  the  loose  end  of  the  tapestry  was  wrapped  close  about 
the  head  of  the  wretched  leech.  All  the  frantic  beating  of 
his  feeble  arms  could  not  stay  the  stroke  for  a  moment. 

When  the  frail  body  lay  limp  and  still  in  her  grasp, 
the  queen  rose  and  went  across  the  chamber  to  hold  up 
her  hands  where  the  moon  poured  in  its  brightest  light. 
They  were  white  and  spotless.  She  looked  them  over  with 
careful  scrutiny,  and,  having  satisfied  herself  that  they 
were  unsoiled,  gazed  down,  wide-eyed,  at  the  one  on  which 
the  opal  glowed  mysteriously  in  the  cold  light. 

"  All  honor  to  my  witch-stone ! "  she  exclaimed. 
"We've  snared  our  wolf  at  last.  Now  to  fetch  the 
forester." 

She  turned  quickly  away  to  the  door,  but  paused  on  the 
threshold,  to  step  back  and  glance  out  through  the  window. 

"  The  night  is  clear ;  yet  a  cloud  may  drift  across. 
It  is  well  to  make  certain,"  she  muttered,  and  she  drew 
the  huddled  form  along  the  wall,  until  it  lay  across  the 
doorway.  Then,  fully  satisfied,  she  slipped  out  and  glided 
swiftly  down  the  dark  passages  until  she  gained  the  bower- 
chamber.  Within,  lighted  by  a  row  of  waxen  tapers,  the 
bower-maidens  sat  about  a  long  table,  plying  needle  and 
bodkin  on  the  garments  of  the  king  and  their  mistress, 
while  an  old  priest  droned  a  homily  for  the  edification  of 
their  manners. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Fastrada  beckoned  the  nearest  girl  to  approach,  and 
spoke  to  her  in  the  doorway :  "  I  go  to  sit  with  our  lord 
and  Deacon  Alcuin  in  the  East  Tower.  You  will  find 
Count  Gerold  playing  at  chess.  Go,  bid  him  bring  my 
sampler  from  my  morning-room  and  fetch  it  after  me." 

"  I  beg  pardon,  my  dame,  am  I  to  fetch  it,  or  Count 
Gerold?" 

"The  count,  you  silly  trull!  Could  I  trust  such  as 
you  to  wander  at  night  when  young  men  are  about?  Go, 
and  see  that  you  return  quickly  under  the  eye  of  the  good 
deacon." 

As  the  maiden  hurried  away,  her  cheeks  aflame,  and  her 
blue  eyes  wet  with  the  starting  tears,  her  mistress  paced 
calmly  back  by  the  way  she  had  come.  It  was  some  little 
distance  around  to  the  East  Tower,  and  she  was  not  yet 
certain  whether  it  would  be  best  for  Gerold  or  for  herself 
to  arrive  first.  There  was  time  to  decide  at  leisure;  for 
the  young  count,  presuming  on  the  king's  favor,  would 
probably  play  out  his  match  before  he  came  to  do  her 
bidding.  All  the  better!  What  greater  joy  than  to  stroll 
along  the  dark  passages,  where  one  was  at  liberty  to  give 
outward  play  to  all  the  bitter-sweet  thoughts  of  revenge? 

But  while  the  witch's  daughter  glided  like  a  trailing 
weasel  from  wing  to  wing  of  the  great  Merwing  palace, 
there  was  happening  in  the  East  Tower  that  which,  had 
she  known  of  it,  would  have  lent  wings  to  her  jewelled 
buskins. 


446 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


From  a  heart  full  of  hate 
Shall  come  heavy  vengeance. 

LAY  OF  BRYNHILD. 

ITHIN  a  small  turret  room, 
that  was  warmed  by  a  charcoal 
brazier  and  lighted  by  the  glow 
of  his  own  hour-candles,  Karl 
sat  on  a  low  bench  beside  the 
book-strewn  table,  while  before 
him  knelt  Rothada,  clasping  his 
sword-hand  to  her  bosom,  as 
she  pleaded  for  love  and  happi- 
ness. His  free  hand  lay  upon 
her  glossy  head,  but  his  eyes  were  raised  in  a  troubled 
look  to  where  Olvir,  in  his  burnished  mail,  stood  calm  and 
beautiful  as  Forseti,  son  of  Balder.  Beside  the  Northman, 
with  slender  fingers  clasped  upon  his  glinting  shoulder- 
plate,  waited  Alcuin,  the  gentle-hearted  scholar,  eager  to 
add  his  appeal  to  the  maiden's. 

But  when  the  little  princess  ceased,  and  bowed  her 
tear-wet  face  upon  her  father's  knee,  he  held  up  his  hand 
for  silence,  and  sat  for  many  moments,  his  brows  bent  in 
deep  thought.  Olvir  waited  the  outcome,  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  king's  face  in  a  calm  and  steady  gaze,  neither 
defiant  nor  imploring. 

Then  Karl  looked  up  at  him,  and  spoke :  "  So,  Dane 
hawk,  after  all  the  honors  I  have  heaped  upon  you,  not 
content  to  defy  Holy  Church,  you  come  to  steal  my 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


daughter  from  me,  —  a  thief  in  the  night!    And  yet  you 
drew  back  from  the  deed;   you  came  before  me  — " 

"For  that  I  claim  nothing,  lord  king.  Had  not 
Rothada  been  loath  —  " 

"And  why  —  why  as  a  thief  —  " 

"  Do  you  ask,  lord  king?  Many  weary  months  have 
passed  since  you  gave  pledge  to  call  me  to  your  side,  — 
to  the  presence  of  my  betrothed.  I  come  at  last,  an  unwel- 
come guest,  to  hear  on  every  lip  the  bitter  tale  that  your 
queen  is  plotting  to  break  my  betrothal  bonds  and  wed 
Count  Worad  with  my  bride." 

"  My  queen  plotting !    Ward  your  tongue,  Dane !  " 
.     "  It  is   not  I   who   say  that   the   queen  is   plotting. 
Whether  she  is  or  is  not,  I  do  not  know ;  but  I  know  that 
your  liegemen  so  say." 

"  You  do  wrong  to  heed  the  ungrateful  slanderers. 
The  court  is  full  of  gossip  and  evil  tales,  the  offspring 
of  envy  and  malice." 

"  Then  my  lord  king  has  not  yet  broken  the  betrothal 
tie  between  myself  and  his  daughter?  " 

"  Not  yet,  Olvir,"  replied  Karl,  and  the  severity  of  his 
look  relaxed  in  a  half-smile.  "  The  bond  still  holds.  Yet 
tell  me,  you  who  talk  of  ill  faith  —  I  speak  no  more  of  your 
plot  to  lure  away  the  maiden ;  but  how  of  your  loyal  ser- 
vice? You  are  far  from  the  Sorb  Mark." 

"  I  bear  tidings  from  the  forest  land,  lord  king,  —  ill 
tidings,"  answered  Olvir,  and  he  told  over  again  the  plot- 
ting of  the  Thuringians  and  the  slaying  of  Rudulf  and  his 
witch-wife. 

Neither  Alcuin  nor  Rothada  could  restrain  their  cries 
at  the  terse  recital;  but  Karl  sat  through  it  all,  stern  and 
silent,  and  gave  no  sign,  even  when,  in  a  dozen  words, 
Olvir  told  how  the  grim  old  count  had  fallen  to  the  thrust 
of  Hardrat's  spear.  When,  however,  the  account  was 

Ld.8 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

ended,  the  king  nodded,  and  said :  "  Years  gone,  I  lost  my 
trust  in  that  drunkard.  Name  his  fellow-plotters." 

"Would  that  I  might,  lord  king!  Yet  I  knew  only 
Hardrat  and  the  witch-wife,  and  I  heard  no  names  spoken." 

"  You  would  know  their  faces  again?  " 

"  Some  of  them  in  a  thousand." 

"  It  is  well.  You  have  rendered  me  good  service ;  and 
so,  if  you  will  bend  to  Holy  Church  —  " 

"  I  cannot  —  it  would  be  a  lie !  " 

"  Rather  it  is  your  pride,  your  haughty  pride  of  spirit 
which  bars  your  way  to  all  happiness.  Do  not  tax  my 
patience  too  far." 

"  For  the  sake  of  the  maiden,  sire  —  "  ventured  Alcuin. 

Karl  threw  out  his  hand  impatiently. 

"  Is  not  the  child  also  in  my  thoughts?  "  he  demanded. 
"  Ah,  little  maiden,  your  pleading  tears  my  heart-strings ! 
For  your  sake,  I  give  your  hero  one  more  trial.  I  name 
him  Count  of  the  Sorb  Mark,  in  the  stead  of  my  slain  Grey 
Wolf.  Two  days  I  give  him  at  Attigny;  then  he  goes  to 
snare  those  forest  plotters.  If  when  he  drags  the  guilty 
men  before  me  for  the  dooming,  he  has  brought  himself 
to  bow  to  Holy  Church,  he  will  find  yet  other  honors 
waiting  him;  if,  however,  he  cannot  in  truth  bend  his 
stubborn  pride,  then,  nevertheless,  I  will  give  him  his 
bride.  Such  is  my  will.  I  have  let  mercy  set  aside 
my  justice.  Be  content.  Now,  child,  rise  and  go  to 
your  chamber.  The  good  deacon  will  see  you  safe.  I 
would  speak  with  Olvir  of  the  commands  he  bears  back 
to  Thuringia." 

"  My  father ! "  cried  Rothada,  rising ;  and  the  heart 
of  the  king  softened  yet  more  as  he  saw  the  light  which 
shone  from  the  violet  eyes.  She  kissed  his  hand,  and  then, 
with  the  cry  of  a  happy  child,  turned  quickly  from  him 
and  ran  to  fling  her  arms  about  Qlvir's  neck. 

«9 449 


I 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"Joy,  joy,  dear  one!  The  Lord  Christ  has  answered 
my  prayer !  "  she  sang. 

"  I  hear  once  more  the  voice  of  the  little  vala,"  said 
Olvir,  softly.  "  Keep  your  heart  merry,  beloved.  The 
days  of  waiting  will  soon  be  ended,  and  when  we  meet 
again,  I  wish  to  see  those  cheeks  rounded,  —  their  roses 
once  more  blooming  to  shame  the  sweetbriar.  Go,  now, 
darling.  The  king  waits." 

Very  tenderly  he  pressed  her  face  between  his  hands 
and  bent  to  kiss  her  eyes  and  lips.  Then  he  gave  her  over 
into  the  keeping  of  the  scholar,  and  turned  resolutely  away. 
As  he  looked  around,  a  drop,  bright  as  a  gem,  was  rolling 
down  the  king's  bearded  cheek. 

Silently  Karl  turned  to  the  table,  to  grasp  Alcuin's 
quill  in  his  unskilled  hand ;  but  the  words  which  he  sought 
to  write  were  ill  formed.  Throwing  aside  the  blotched 
parchment,  he  signed  to  Olvir  to  take  the  quill.  Under 
the  Northman's  deft  strokes,  the  beautiful  letters  of  the 
Irish  script  flowed  from  the  quill's  point  as  by  magic.  The 
king,  as  he  spoke  the  message,  watched  the  nimble  scribe 
with  half-envious  admiration.  When  the  missive  was 
ended,  he  took  wax  and  stamped  it  with  his  signet,  in 
lieu  of  the  great  seal. 

"So  — that  is  done,"  he  said  shortly.  "You  are  a 
ready  scribe.  Not  even  I/iutrad  is  as  quick  and  sure  in 
forming  the  letters.  Now  take  the  scroll,  and  go." 

"  I  would  first  render  thanks  to  my  lord  king." 

"  Go !  My  heart  misgives  me,  that  I  have  let  the 
weakness  of  a  father  and  friend  stand  in  the  way  of  God's 
service.  Go  quickly!  I  would  be  alone." 

"  I  go,  my  heart  singing  with  the  praises  of  the  golden 
king !  "  replied  Olvir. 

"  I  ask  no  thanks.  Go,"  answered  Karl,  without  any 
sign  of  response  to  the  young  man's  smile.  As  Olvir 

450 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

darted  away,  too  overjoyed  to  be  disheartened  by  the  cold 
parting,  the  great  Frank's  head  bent  forward,  and  his  brows 
gathered. 

He  still  sat  there,  tugging  at  his  beard  and  gazing 
moodily  at  the  spot  where  Rothada  had  knelt,  when  the 
queen  glided  softly  into  the  chamber.  At  sight  of  her 
graceful  figure,  his  frown  gave  way  to  a  fond  smile;  but 
she  had  seen  his  moody  look. 

"What  troubles  my  dear  lord?"  she  murmured, 
nestling  beside  him  on  the  bench.  Karl  put  his  great  arm 
about  her  and  drew  her  to  him,  before  he  answered,  "  It 
is  nothing,  sweetheart.  I  Ve  had  enough  of  bitter  thoughts. 
Now  I  would  woo  my  gentle  wife." 

"  Dear  lord !  Mine  is  the  greater  joy !  When  I  dwell 
on  my  happiness,  my  heart  goes  out  to  all  mankind.  I 
could  love  even  the  heathen  and  the  heretics,  condemned 
of  God  to  endless  torment.  What  pity  that  men  should 
so  bring  upon  themselves  the  fires  of  the  nether  world! 
One  could  almost  wish  to  give  them  good  gifts  here,  to 
offset  their  sufferings  to  come." 

"They  are  perverse  and  godless  men,  dear  one.  Do 
not  trouble  your  heart  for  their  wickedness.  There  is 
enough  of  sin  in  Holy  Church." 

"  Yet  my  thoughts  go  astray,  dear  lord.  Sometimes 
I  think  of  our  little  maiden.  I  doubt  if  your  Dane 
hawk's  proud  spirit  will  yield.  Yet,  dear  lord,  if  your 
judgment  hold  in  all  its  firm  justice,  she  will  ever  live  in 
grief,  torn  from  the  arms  of  her  hero.  Always  before  I 
have  given  heed  only  to  the  good  of  Holy  Church;  yet 
now  —  " 

"  Take  joy,  then,  kind  heart !  They  were  here  only 
a  little  since,  and  I  gave  pledge  that  they  should  wed." 

"Should  wed!  — Olvir  here!" 

"  You  may  well  gaze  in  bewilderment.    I  wonder  at 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

myself.  Yet  what  father  could  withstand  the  heart's  plead- 
ing of  his  maid-child?  " 

"  My  lord,  I  —  rejoice  at  their  joy.    I  will  go  —  " 

"Stay!    Who  comes  leaping  upon  the  stair?" 

Rising  swiftly,  Karl  set  his  great  form  before  the 
queen,  and  loosened  Ironbiter  in  its  sheath.  The  half- 
drawn  blade  flashed  out  its  full  length,  when  Gerold,  pale 
and  glaring  with  horror,  rushed  wildly  into  the  room,  a 
bared  dagger  in  his  hand.  Checked  by  the  threatening 
sword-point,  the  Swabian  stopped  short  and  sank  to  his 
knee,  panting. 

"  Murder,  dear  lord !  "  he  gasped,  —  "  murder  beneath 
the-  king's  roof !  In  the  queen's  morning-room  Kosru  the 
leech  lies  stark,  a  knife-thrust  through  his  heart ! " 

Karl  lowered  his  sword,  and  stared  down  at  the  young 
count. 

"Murder?"  he  repeated.  "Whose  knife  do  you 
bear?  " 

"  The  slayer's,  sire !  I  drew  it  out,  and  ran  to  show 
it  you." 

"  Well  done !  Hold  up  the  blade,  that  we  may  see  — 
So;  it  is  of  Danish  make —  And  the  owner?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  sire." 

"  He  does  not  know !  "  hissed  Fastrada.  "  His  memory 
is  strangely  short.  I  know  the  blade." 

"You,  wife?    Name  the  murderer!" 

"  Count  Olvir,  sire." 

"Olyir!" 

"  He,  dear  lord." 

"You  know  the  knife?" 

"  I  could  swear  to  it  in  a  thousand.  He  once  carried 
it  at  his  belt.  Many  of  the  court  will  remember  the  blade." 

Karl  made  no  answer,  but  turned  and  paced  slowly 
to  and  fro  across  the  room,  his  gaze  fixed  on  the  floor 


U 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

before  him.  He  did  not  pause  until  Fastrada  looked  up 
with  white,  drawn  face  and  narrow-lidded  eyes,  and  cried 
sharply  to  Gerold :  "  Heit  king's  man !  why  do  you  loi- 
ter? Go,  call  warriors,  and  search  out  the  slayer.  It 
will  be  no  light  task  to  take  him,  should  he  have  warn- 
ing. Go!" 

"  Hold!  "  commanded  Karl.  "  Am  I  the  king,  that  a 
woman  speaks  for  me?  " 

"  Ail  forgive  me,  dear  lord!  I  thought  only  of  my 
leech,  —  my  luckless,  murdered  Kosru !  "  wailed  Fastrada, 
and  she  flung  herself  at  his  feet. 

"  Rise,  dear  one,"  he  said  gently. 

"  Not  until  the  warriors  go  to  take  the  slayer  of  that 
helpless  greybeard !  Ah,  the  good  old  leech !  Many  's  the 
bitter  pang  he  has  eased  for  me.  Only  the  bloodiest  of 
wretches  could  have  slain  so  helpless  a  one!  How  came 
the  cruel  Dane  in  my  morning-room  —  beside  Rothada's 
chamber?  Oh,  my  lord,  could  it  be  that  the  base  outlander 
came  skulking  in  the  darkness  to  —  to  —  And  Kosru,  the 
luckless  greybeard,  sought  to  dissuade  him  from  his  evil 
deed!  Send  warriors,  dear  lord!  Let  the  bloody  slayer 
be  dragged  before  your  judgment-seat!  The  mire-death 
were  light  doom  for  such  a  foul  slaying ! " 

The  queen's  voice,  quivering  with  agony  and  horror, 
broke  into  wild  sobs.  Karl  stooped  over,  as  though  to 
raise  her;  only  to  tower  up  again  and  stare  about  in 
angry  indecision.  It  was  a  luckless  moment  for  the  sea- 
king  and  his  betrothed.  Before  the  memory  of  the  North- 
man's calm  face  and  the  little  maiden's  pleading  could  blunt 
and  turn  aside  the  poisoned  shafts  of  the  witch's  daughter, 
other  feet  came  leaping  upon  the  stair.  Again  Karl's  hand 
went  to  the  hilt  of  Ironbiter,  and  his  frown  deepened  as 
Worad  of  Metz  rushed  into  the  room,  covered  from  helmet 
to  buskin  with  travel-grime. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

" Lord  king ! "  he  gasped  —  "I  could  not  wait  —  my 
horse  fell  at  the  gate,  outspent  —  but  I  —  " 

"  Another  bearer  of  ill  tidings,"  muttered  Karl. 

"What?    I  do  not  understand,  sire.    I  —  " 

"  You  come  late.  Already  I  have  word  of  Rudulf  s 
death  and  of  the  Thuringian  plot  —  from  Olvir's  lips." 

"Plot  —  Thuringian  plot!  — and  from  him!" 

"  I  have  said  it,  dolt." 

"And  he  told  you?  Saint  Michael!  there  was  no 
plot,  lord  king,  —  no  plot  but  his  own  when  he  lured  Count 
Rudulf  and  his  Wend  wife  into  the  ambush  of  the  Sorbs. 
I  myself  found  the  arrow-pierced  bodies  on  the  Saale  bank, 
—  I  myself,  in  the  lead  of  the  Thuringian  searchers.  Then 
many  counts  who  had  been  feasting  at  Hardrat's  hall 
told  how  the  Dane  had  passed  by,  riding  with  his  chosen 
victims." 

"  Hold ! "  commanded  Karl,  and  he  bent  forward  to 
fix  his  keen  eyes  on  the  young  Frank.  "  You  say  they 
passed  by  Hardrat's  hall?  " 

Worad  drew  a  large  scroll  from  his  breast  and  held 
it  out  to  the  king.  "  Here,  sire,  is  the  tale,  to  which  all 
the  feasters  took  oath.  I  called  upon  them  for  it,  when, 
having  brought  up  my  warriors,  I  marched  to  the  war- 
ring to  take  the  betrayer,  and  found  that  he  had  fled. 
Thank  God,  I  find  you  safe,  dear  lord!  Days  had  passed 
since  the  foul  deed,  and  men  said  he  had  gone  Rhineward. 
I  rode  fast,  fearful  of  the  worst  —  " 

"Your  fear  was  needless.  Traitor  or  true  man,  he 
came  before  me  with  a  calm  face." 

"  For  you  gave  him  all  that  he  asked,  dear  lord ! " 
cried  Fastrada.  "  At,  Holy  Mother  —  to  think  how  near 
you  Ve  been  to  his  murderous  blade !  —  the  bloody  Dane, 
foul  betrayer  of  my  father  —  my  mother !  —  red-handed 
from  the  slaying  of  that  helpless  greybeard — Ail  the  mire- 
454 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

death  were  light  doom  for  such  a  treacherous  slayer !  Jus- 
tice —  justice,  son  of  Pepin !  I  demand  vengeance  on  the 
slayer  of  my  kin !  " 

Even  Gerold  quivered  at  the  grief  and  horror  in  the 
queen's  voice.  The  shrill  appeal  pierced  to  the  heart  like 
a  knife-thrust.  The  king's  face  was  terrible  to  look  upon 
in  its  deadly  anger;  and  yet  he  still  hesitated. 

"  It  cannot  be  —  it  cannot  be !  "  he  muttered.  "  He, 
my  bright  Dane  —  " 

"  Bright  Dane !  "  screamed  Fastrada  —  "  heathen  out- 
lander —  heretic  —  scoffer  at  Holy  Church!  What  lying 
tale  has  he  told  you,  that  you  stand  in  doubt?  Look  — 
look  on  the  scroll  which  tells  of  my  kin's  betrayal  —  at 
this  knife  from  the  heart  of  the  greybeard!  At  —  they 
shall  trample  him  in  the  mire ! " 

"King  of  Heaven!  —  that  battle-leader!  He  is  no 
coward  to  be  flung  in  the  fen.  You  ask  too  much,  wife." 

"  Too  much !  At,  too  much  for  the  slayer  of  my  kin ! 
But  the  king  speaks  —  Let  him,  then,  be  torn  asunder  by 
the  plunging  horses  —  the  murderous  wretch!  Heil  I 
can  hear  the  snapping  bones !  " 

Karl  stared  down  into  the  upraised  eyes  of  his  queen, 
and  they  were  as  the  eyes  of  a  wolf,  glaring  green  with 
exultant  hate.  He  turned  to  stride  across  the  room,  and 
as  he  turned,  he  saw  again  before  him  the  gentle  eyes  of  his 
daughter,  —  the  pleading  face  of  Himiltrude's  child.  Twice 
he  paced  across  the  room,  the  angry  flush  slowly  receding 
from  his  face. 

Then  he  paused  before  his  queen,  and  said  coldly, 
"  Seek  your  bed,  wife.  This  is  no  place  for  grieving  dames. 
As  to  my  Dane  hawk,  rest  content.  He  shall  fare  from 
my  realm,  an  outlaw." 

"  How !  —  the  murderer?  Are  you  mad,  son  of  Pepin? 
Free  to  go?  —  that  traitor ! " 

455 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  No  traitor,  dame ;  and  he  may  have  had  cause  for 
vengeance  against  your  kin.  As  to  the  leech,  he  was  but 
an  outlander,  —  a  wizened  dotard,  already  on  the  grave's 
edge,  —  and  the  Dane  is  the  bravest  of  all  my  counts. 
I  have  loved  him  as  a  kinsman.  Enough!  His  doom  is 
spoken.  I  give  him  this  night.  Then  Gerold  shall  bid  him 
go,  under  pain  of  death  if  he  linger  an  hour  after  sunrise. 
Here,  Worad,  is  my  signet.  After  the  baptizing  of  the 
Saxons,  the  High  Marshal  and  his  horsemen  will  ride  with 
you  to  Cologne,  on  the  trail  of  the  outlaw,  —  to  drive  him 
and  his  wolf-pack  from  my  kingdom." 


456 


CHAPTER  XXV 


I  will  fare  back  thither 
From  whence  I  came, 


To  my  nighest  kin 

And  those  who  know  me. 

LAY  OF  SIGURD. 


LL  night  long  Gerold  searched 
Attigny  for  his  outlawed  friend, 
^  m  but  found  no  trace  of  him.    At 

S   W  dawn  he  returned  to  the  palace, 

£       j  weary  and  all  but  overcome  with 

•  the  burden  of  his  grief.    He  was 

j       Jl  too  disheartened  even  to  speak 

^  to  Rothada's  Frisian  maid,  who 

mi^k. 

stood  by  the  outer  gate.  He 
would  have  passed  by  her,  had 
she  not  signed  to  him. 

"What  is  it,  Berga?  "  he  asked  dully,  when  he  had 
followed  her  into  a  secluded  nook. 

"  You  droop  like  an  outspent  hound,  lord  count.  Take 
cheer.  I  can  put  you  on  the  trail." 

"  How !  you  know  —  " 

"  They  slipped  out,  only  a  little  since,  —  she  and  your 
mate,  the  big  Dane  priest." 

"To  meet  Count  Olvir!" 

"  It  is  merry  for  lovers  to  ride  in  the  greenwood." 

"  My  thanks ! "  muttered  Gerold,  and  he  rushed  into 
the  palace  courtyard. 

His  horse  was  dripping  with  sweat  when,  a  mile  up 
the  Aisne  bank,  he  raced  to  meet  the  three  riders  who 
came  cantering  through  the  groves.  It  was  a  happy  little 

457 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

party.  He  could  see  the  blush  of  love  and  joy  which  had 
brought  back  the  roses  to  Rothada's  white  cheeks,  and 
her  joyous  laughter  rang  clear  in  the  still  air.  How  could 
he  mar  their  happiness? 

But  now  they  were  racing  forward  to  meet  him,  Zora 
in  the  lead.  A  little  more,  and  he  was  on  the  dewy  turf 
beside  Olvir,  gripping  his  arms.  After  the  first  outburst 
of  gladness,  however,  his  face  darkened  with  the  shadow 
of  his  message. 

"How's  this,  lad?"  demanded  Olvir.  "You  stand 
gaping,  doleful  as  a  bee-stung  cub.  God  forbid  that  you 
bear  ill  tidings  of  our  lord  king  !  " 

"  I  bear  ill  tidings,  not  of  our  lord  king,  but  from  him," 
answered  Gerold;  and  he  turned  appealingly  to  Liutrad. 
"  I  cannot  tell  them  !  I  cannot  say  it  !  " 

"  Speak  !   Speak  out,  man  !  "  commanded  Olvir,  fiercely. 

"  Sea-king,  —  king's  son  !  here  is  fit  ending  for  your 
seven  years  of  service.  Now  are  you  wolfshead  throughout 
the  length  and  breadth  of  the  Frank  realm,  —  you  and  all 
your  following!  You  shall  sail  down  Rhine  Stream  so 
soon  as  you  can  ride  to  Cologne.  Worad  rides  after,  to 
hunt  you  from  the  realm.  If  within  an  hour  you  have 
not  left  Attigny,  your  head  shall  pay  for  the  loitering. 
Such  is  the  command  of  Karl,  King  of  the  Franks,  to 
the  hero  who  has  served  him  as  a  king's  son  —  a  king's 
son!" 

Gerold  paused,  the  words  choking  in  his  throat  with 
grief  and  anger,  and  Olvir  and  Liutrad  stood  before  him 
speechless,  stunned  by  his  message.  But  Rothada  slipped 
from  her  horse  and  ran  to  Olvir. 

"  Ah,  Christ!  "  she  moaned.    "  My  hero  outlawed!  " 

"  The  king  your  father  has  named  him  wolfshead, 
maiden,"  answered  Gerold,  and  then  his  voice  broke  into 
plaintive  appeal.  "  Why  did  you  slay  the  old  leech,  Olvir? 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

Why  strike  the  greybeard?  At  the  least,  you  should  have 
taken  your  knife  with  you.  Where  were  your  nimble  wits? 
But  for  the  witness  of  the  reddened  blade  —  " 

"Hold!  Are  you  mad?"  cried  Olvir.  "You  babble 
of  knives  and  slain  men  like  a  fool." 

"  Would  that  it  were  so,  friend !  But  your  knife,  the 
ill-omened  blade!  With  my  own  hand  I  plucked  it  from 
the  heart  of  the  luckless  Magian." 

"  How  —  my  knife  ?  None  the  less,  it  is  a  foul  lie.  I 
gave  the  blade  long  since  to  this  dear  one  on  my  breast, 
and  last  night  I  placed  it  again  in  her  hand,  unused,  when 
I  spurned  the  cowering  leech.  Why  should  I  slay  the 
spy,  when  I  was  even  then  going  with  my  betrothed  to 
stand  before  her  father?  There  would  be  nothing  to 
betray." 

"Thor's  hammer!"  roared  Liutrad.  "The  werwolf 
has  snared  you,  earl  —  " 

"  No,  by  Odin !  The  falcon  bursts  through  the  limed 
twigs.  I  '11  go  to  the  king  —  " 

"Too  late  — too  late!"  groaned  Gerold.  "She  has 
shot  her  venomed  shafts  too  well.  After  I,  wretched  man 
that  I  am,  had  brought  the  blade  that  sprung  the  wer- 
wolf s  snare,  Worad  came  also,  with  lies  yet  worse.  The 
Thuringians  have  spared  no  pains.  A  score  of  high-counts 
have  sworn  that  you  lured  old  Rudulf  to  his  death  in  an 
ambush  of  the  Sorbs.  It  was  then  the  werwolf  triumphed. 
The  king  is  filled  with  her  venom;  and  yet  —  and  yet 
even  then  he  denied  her  and  doomed  you  only  to  out- 
lawry." 

Olvir  struck  his  thigh.  "  Thor!  I  thank  him  little  for 
that,  when  I  must  go  faring,  and  leave  my  bride  to  wed 
the  werwolf's  nursling." 

"  I  have  another  knife,"  said  Rothada,  and  she  looked 
up  at  Olvir,  her  sweet  lips  straight  and  tense. 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  No,  king's  daughter ! "  he  answered  her  sternly ;  "  it 
shall  not  come  to  that.  I  have  the  right  to  take  you  with 
me  into  my  banishment.  Now  what  is  the  vala's  word?  " 

"  Oh,  my  hero,  I  pray  for  light !  If  you  must  truly 
go —  But  first,  there  is  yet  hope.  My  father  does  not 
know  the  truth." 

"Would  he  listen  were  it  told  him?  No,  darling; 
come  with  me,  that  there  may  be  an  end  of  doubt." 

"  I  cannot,  Olvir,  —  I  cannot  go  yet.  First  see  my 
father.  He  is  just;  he  will  right  the  wrong  he  has  put 
upon  you." 

"And  if  not?" 

"He  will,  dear  hero!" 

"  And  if  not?  " 

"Then  —  ah,  Christ  forgive  me!  I  must  break  the 
will  of  the  king  my  father.  I  must  leave  home  and  friends 
and  father  —  unblessed !  " 

"  No,  little  vala ;  not  unblessed,"  broke  in  Liutrad, 
his  deep  voice  trembling.  "  You  shall  be  wed  by  a  priest 
of  God,  who  will  shrive  you  of  all  sin  in  doing  what  is 
just  and  right." 

"Enough,"  said  Olvir.  "I  hold  the  pledge  of  my 
betrothed.  Gerold  will  lead  her  back  to  the  palace,  and 
Liutrad  will  fetch  my  priest-robe.  He  will  bring  me  in 
before  the  king  during  the  noon  rest.  If  I  fail,  but  get  free, 
I  '11  ride  straight  across  the  Ardennes  to  Cologne.  At 
nightfall,  Liutrad  will  ride  with  the  king's  daughter;  but 
they  shall  go  by  another  way,  down  the  Meuse  to  Nime- 
guen.  There  I  will  meet  them  with  my  longships.  What 
says  Count  Gerold  to  the  theft  of  the  king's  daughter?  " 

"  Saint  Michael !  Could  you  think  me  so  cruel  as  to 
hold  her  here  in  the  power  of  that  werwolf?  Yet  a  word: 
there  will  be  swift  pursuit." 

"  They  will  follow  me  to  Cologne." 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  And  a  priest  has  his  cowl,"  added  Liutrad. 

Rothada  pressed  her  blushing  face  against  Olvir's 
shoulder. 

"  They  shall  not  find  our  trail,  dear  hero,"  she  whis- 
pered. "  Berga  in  a  forester's  dress,  and  I  as  a  page  —  " 

"Freya  guide  you,  my  bride!"  cried  Olvir,  and  he 
pressed  his  lips  to  her  downbent  head. 


461 


CHAPTER  XXVI 


Unmeet  we  should  do 
As  the  doings  of  wolves  are, 
Raising  wrongs  'gainst  each  other 


As  the  dogs  of  the  Norns, 
The  greedy  ones  nourished 
In  waste  steads  of  the  earth. 
LAY  OF  HAMDIR. 


HEN  Liutrad  returned  with  the 
sombre  Benedictine  robe  for  his 
earl,  he  found  Olvir  pacing  rest- 
lessly up  and  down  the  Aisne 
bank. 

"  You  're  slow,  lad,"  he  said 
impatiently ;  and  flinging  on  the 
gown,  he  at  once  called  to  Zora. 
But  Liutrad  had  more  knowl- 
edge of  the  king's  humor. 

Curb  your  eagerness,  earl,"  he  said.  "Wait  until 
after  the  baptizing,  and  our  lord  king  has  eaten  and  eased 
himself  with  the  noon  rest.  When  he  wakens,  his  mood 
will  be  fairest." 

"  Yours  is  the  better  judgment,  lad,"  assented  Olvir. 
"  My  hour  of  grace  is  already  past,  and  it  will  matter  little 
—  Loki !  We  Ve  forgotten  that  I  cannot  ride  Zora  into 
the  burg.  Worad  will  soon  be  searching  me  out,  and  the 
mare  is  as  well  known  as  I." 

"  We  must  leave  her  hid  in  the  wood  nearest  the  burg. 
My  horse  shall  stand  in  waiting  for  you  by  the  palace  gate. 
He  is  heavy,  but  can  race  that  far  at  good  speed." 

"  Well  schemed,  lad !  I  shall  swoop  among  the  limed 
twigs  of  the  werwolf,  and  they  shall  not  hold  me!  Do 

462 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

you  call  to  mind,  lad,  that  day  among  the  sand  dunes, 
when  we  outrode  the  angry  Danes?" 

"  Remember !  Thor's  hammer,  but  those  were  merry 
days ! "  cried  Liutrad ;  and  with  that  he  and  Olvir  fell  to 
recalling  the  stirring  scenes  of  their  hunts  and  their  fights 
on  land  and  sea  since  the  day  when  Olvir  Thorbiornson 
came  to  Lade,  with  his  grim  foster-father,  and  won  the 
heirship  of  the  high-seat. 

Noon  came  and  passed,  and  the  two  still  talked  on 
with  the  care-free  tones  of  men  at  a  feast.  None  might 
have  dreamt  from  their  manner  that  they  were  desperate 
men,  prepared,  if  need  were,  to  defy  the  might  of  the  great 
king. 

At  last,  noting  by  the  fall  of  the  sun-rays  through  the 
foliage  how  the  time  passed,  Liutrad  gave  the  word,  and 
they  made  ready  to  enter  Attigny. 

Worms  during  the  wedding  of  Fastrada  was  not 
more  gay  than  was  now  the  little  burg  on  the  Aisne.  All 
the  court  and  all  the  townfolk  rejoiced  with  their  king 
in  the  fond  belief  that  the  bloody  Saxon  struggle  had  at 
last  come  to  an  end.  The  streets  were  thronged  with 
revellers,  through  whose  midst  Olvir,  muffled  in  his  cowl, 
walked  unnoted  behind  Liutrad's  horse,  straight  to  the 
great  palace  built  by  the  second  Clovis. 

No  official  would  have  thought  to  bar  the  entrance 
of  the  king's  favorite  scribe  into  the  most  private  apart- 
ments of  the  king,  without  Karl's  express  command,  and 
where  Liutrad  went,  he  had  no  difficulty  in  gaining  ad- 
mittance for  his  priestly  fellow.  But  when  they  came 
near  the  door  of  the  king's  chamber,  Liutrad  thought  it 
best  that  he  should  wait  outside  in  the  passage.  While 
they  stood  talking,  they  heard  within  the  sibilant,  purr- 
ing voice  of  the  queen,  and  at  the  same  time  the  Grand 
Doorward  approached,  to  inquire  their  purpose.  Olvir's 

463 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

gaze  grew  stern,  and  he  drew  Liutrad  away,  with  quick 
decision. 

"  Go,  bring  your  horse  into  the  courtyard  —  to  the 
steps  of  the  palace  doorway,"  he  said.  "  Should  I  come  out 
in  haste,  do  not  wonder  if  I  take  the  beast  from  you  with 
a  show  of  force.  The  Franks  should  know  of  nothing 
against  you  till  you  've  fled  with  their  king's  daughter." 

"  Olvir!    You  mean  our  lord  king  no  harm?  " 

"  God  forbid  —  greatly  as  he  has  wronged  me !  Only, 
I  'd  not  linger  in  the  werwolf's  power  should  all  go  ill." 

"  Saint  Michael  grant  you  have  no  need  of  flight! " 

"  My  thanks.    Go  quickly !  " 

Liutrad  hurried  away,  and  Olvir  stepped  forward  to 
meet  the  doorward,  his  head  bent  beneath  the  cowl,  and 
his  lips  muttering  a  Latin  phrase. 

"  Hold,"  commanded  the  pompous  official.  "  What  is 
the  priest's  purpose  at  the  door  of  our  lord  king?  " 

"  To  enter  it,  fool ! "  muttered  Olvir,  in  Latin,  and, 
as  the  Frank  bowed  to  the  blessing,  he  spoke  in  a  tone  of 
authority:  "  Lead  me  to  his  Majesty.  I  come  from  Fulda 
and  —  " 

"Ah,  the  wise  Abbot  Baugulf.  Follow  me,  priest, 
and  pray  for  grace  that  you  do  not  stammer  and  stand 
dumfounded  when  you  enter  the  presence  of  majesty." 

Olvir  made  no  answer,  and  the  doorward,  judging  that 
he  had  sufficiently  impressed  the  humble  priest,  flung  aside 
the  curtains,  and  announced  his  entrance.  "  A  messenger, 
your  Majesty,  from  Abbot  Baugulf." 

"  Let  him  stand  and  enjoy  with  us  the  verses  of  our 
Albinus,"  replied  Karl,  without  turning  his  gaze  from 
Alcuin,  at  the  foot  of  the  royal  couch. 

Olvir  stopped  short,  and,  from  the  depths  of  his  cowl, 
swept  the  room  with  his  glance.  Evidently  the  king  had 
thought  the  morning's  ceremony  sufficient  work  accom- 
464 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


plished  for  the  day,  even  for  his  all  but  tireless  energy. 
In  place  of  the  usual  crowd  of  counts  and  court-officials, 
pressing  about  the  royal  couch  to  report  their  actions  and 
receive  fresh  orders  from  the  king,  there  were  present 
only  Alcuin  and  Fastrada  the  queen,  who  was  seated  be- 
side her  lord  on  the  edge  of  the  massive  couch. 

At  a  nod  from  Karl,  Alcuin  raised  his  gold-illumined 
scroll,  and  recited  his  Latin  rhymes  in  a  voice  that  went  far 
toward  easing  the  waywardness  of  the  feet.  The  king  was 
very  hearty  in  his  praise  of  the  poet's  efforts ;  but  Fastrada 
murmured  an  ironical  criticism :  "  A  fair  song,  my  lord, 
—  for  children  and  priests.  I  myself  would  rather  hear 
the  heart-stirring  lays  of  our  fathers." 

"  They  are  the  fierce  songs  of  heathen  warriors,  my 
dame,  ill  fitted  for  the  lips  of  God's  children,"  protested 
Alcuin. 

Karl  nodded  to  him,  smiling.  "  Ah,  my  Albinus,  you 
speak  true;  I,  as  head  of  God's  church,  must  agree  with 
you.  It  is  well  that  our  subjects  should  not  sing  the 
heathen  lays.  Yet  they  are  the  songs  of  our  fathers,  and 
I  would  not  have  them  wholly  lost  to  our  children.  But  I 
keep  waiting  the  good  abbot's  messenger.  Stand  forward, 
my  son,  and  deliver  over  the  scroll  sent  by  your  superior." 

"  I  bear  no  scroll,  Frank  king.  The  message  is  on 
the  tongue  of  the  wolfshead,"  answered  Olvir,  in  a  clear 
voice,  and  he  flung  aside  the  priest's  robe,  to  stand  before 
the  king  in  full  war-gear. 

"How?  Olvir!  King  of  Heaven!"  cried  Karl,  and 
he  sprang  up  to  confront  the  Northman  as  he  had  con- 
fronted Gerold  in  the  East  Tower,  —  with  bared  sword. 
But  Olvir  gazed  fearlessly  into  his  angry  eyes. 

"  Twice  before  has  my  father's  sword  been  brandished 
to  strike  down  his  son,"  he  said.  "  The  edge  of  Ironbiter 
in  a  king's  hand  is  fair  fate  for  a  warrior." 


I 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"Wretched  man!  why  do  you  force  me  to  anger?  I 
have  yielded  to  mercy,  —  I  gave  you  full  time  to  quit  my 
realm.  Yet  now  you  stand  before  me,  threatening." 

"  My  sword  hangs  in  its  sheath.  Had  I  come  to  avenge 
myself  for  the  outlaw's  doom,  I  could  have  leaped  upon  the 
son  of  Pepin  while  the  priest  murmured  his  verses.  Is  the 
king  answered?  " 

Karl  lowered  his  Norse  sword,  and  gazed  down 
moodily  at  the  outlaw. 

"  By  my  faith,  Dane,"  he  muttered,  "  I  had  thought 
you  bold  beyond  most;  but  this  passes  belief." 

"  A  man  will  do  much  for  his  honor  and  his  love, 
King  of  the  Franks.  I  am  no  longer  your  liegeman ;  you 
have  broken  the  fetter  which  bound  us.  I  have  been  named 
wolfshead.  Without  my  knowledge,  I  have  been  doomed 
to  outlawry.  Now  I  come  to  ask  a  hearing." 

"  You  come  too  late,  murderous  Northman ! "  ex- 
claimed Fastrada.  "  Our  lord  king  has  rendered  judg- 
ment. Your  doom  is  sealed.  Go  quickly,  outlaw,  before 
the  scullions  beat  you  from  the  palace  with  their  spits." 

Olvir  looked  into  the  beautiful  evil  face,  smiling 
with  malignant  triumph,  and  the  white  fury  seized  upon 
him. 

"  I  do  not  speak  to  the  witch's  offcast  daughter.  My 
appeal  is  to  the  King  of  the  Franks,"  he  lisped. 

The  king  gasped  in  sheer  amazement ;  then  the  blood 
leaped  into  his  face,  and  his  eyes  flamed.  He  turned  to 
thrust  out  his  fist  at  the  gaping  doorward,  and  commanded 
harshly :  "  Away,  fool !  Bid  the  High  Marshal  and  his 
riders  lead  this  Dane  wolf  Rhineward,  in  bonds.  The 
bloody  outlaw  shall  not  fare  at  will  about  my  realm.  Go !  " 

"  My  lord,  —  dear  sire !  "  cried  Alcuin,  as  the  doorward 
sprang  away ;  "  hear  the  youth  —  " 

"  Silence,  priest !  None  shall  pule  over  this  false  Dane ! 
466 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


Doubly  has  he  earned  the  tree,  —  the  mire-death.  Yet  I 
have  spared  his  life;  I  have  shown  mercy." 

"  It  is  not  for  mercy,  but  for  justice  that  I  ask,  King 
of  the  Franks,"  replied  Olvir;  and  then,  as  the  thought 
of  his  little  princess  came  upon  him,  his  voice  broke  into 
despairing  appeal  :  "  Hear  me,  lord  king  !  Be  just  to  the 
liegeman  whom  you  once  honored.  Do  not  send  me 
from  your  realm  wolfshead,  that  those  who  hate  me  may 
jeer  my  name,  and  my  friends  listen  to  the  scoffing  with 
sealed  lips.  I  will  go;  I  will  go  gladly,  lord  king;  only, 
take  from  me  the  shame  of  your  dooming,  and  bless  the 
parting  liegeman  with  a  king's  gift,  —  the  hand  of  his 
betrothed." 

"  By  the  King  —  " 

"  Hear  me,  dear  lord,  I  beg  you  !  by  the  sword  in 
your  hand,  by  this  ring  on  my  wrist,  gift  of  Hildegarde 
—  of  Hildegarde  who  so  loved  my  little  princess  !  —  •»  I 
swear  to  you,  dear  lord,  that  I  had  no  part  —  " 

"  Do  not  heed  him,  King  of  the  Franks  !  "  hissed  Fas- 
trada.  "  Look  upon  this  cruel  blade,  my  lord,  —  the  knife 
which  pierced  the  feeble  greybeard!  What  justice  for  the 
murderer?  What  mercy  for  the  traitor?  I  demand  ven- 
geance upon  my  father's  betrayer.  He  shall  sink  in 
the  slime,  or  the  plunging  horses  rend  him  asunder! 
Vengeance  !  " 

"  Go,  Olvir  !  "  muttered  the  king,  thickly  ;  "go  — 
before  I  forget  that  I  once  loved  you." 

A  gasping  sob  burst  from  the  Northman.  Karl  could 
not  have  struck  a  blow  more  cruel.  The  stricken  man 
turned  slowly  about  arid  passed  from  the  chamber,  groping 
his  way  as  though  blinded.  The  king  and  the  scholar  stared 
after  him,  hushed  and  motionless.  Not  until  he  was  gone 
did  they  heed  that  the  queen  had  glided  out  by  the  bower 
doorway.  Then  Alcuin  began  to  pray  aloud,  and  the  king 

467 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

bent  while  the  priest  implored  the  blessing  of  Heaven  upon 
the  soul  of  the  outlaw. 

But  Olvir,  passing  slowly  from  the  doorway  along  the 
shadowy  corridor,  felt  a  hand  thrust  out  from  another  cur- 
tained entrance  to  draw  him  within.  Still  half  dazed,  he 
yielded  to  the  grasp.  The  hangings  fell  to  behind  him,  and 
he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  the  queen.  For  a  little 
they  stood  staring  at  each  other,  the  queen's  face  still  and 
cold  as  a  mask.  Olvir  looked  quietly  into  her  dilating  eyes, 
and  then,  without  a  word,  he  turned  to  go.  But  Fastrada 
put  out  the  hand  on  which  glowed  her  magic  opal,  and 
caught  his  shoulder  in  an  eager  grasp. 

"  Stay,  Olvir!  "  she  said.  "  Give  heed,  and  learn  that 
all  is  not  lost  to  you." 

"  The  king  has  spoken,  witch's  daughter." 

"  But  not  the  queen.  Listen,  my  gerfalcon.  The 
famished  bird  wings  back  to  the  wrist  of  its  keeper;  the 
well-lashed  steed  comes  to  the  call  of  the  master.  Your 
spirit  is  broken,  proud  Dane,  and  now  my  vengeance  is 
slaked.  There  is  gall  in  the  cup.  I  wish  to  drink  of  a 
sweeter  draught,  which  you  shall  give  at  my  asking;  for 
in  my  hand  I  hold  for  you  good  fortune,  —  honors  and 
riches  and  power ;  the  king's  friendship  again  for  his  Dane 
hawk." 

"  And  the  price,  werwolf?  " 

"  Take  heed  of  your  tongue,  Olvir !  I  have  yet  a  score 
to  settle  with  your  puling  nun-bride." 

"  She  has  another  knife  —  " 

"  Take  joy  of  the  thought !  Listen  to  me :  I  offer  for 
her  so  much  as  the  veil,  and  that  at  Chelles,  where  she  will 
be  with  Gisela.  Weigh  it  well,  Olvir;  on  the  one  hand, 
peace  for  her;  on  the  other,  the  knife  —  or  Worad." 

"The  price?" 

A  deep  blush  suffused  the  queen's  cheeks,  and  her  eyes, 


H3G 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

blue  and  soft,  gazed  at  the  Northman  from  beneath  their 
long  lashes  with  an  alluring  glance. 

"  Surely  the  price  is  not  too  heavy,"  she  murmured. 
"  Men  still  hold  me  not  uncomely  —  " 

"  Lord  Christ  —  and  to  think !  Ah,  my  world-hero, 
father  of  my  betrothed !  Far  better  the  outlaw's  lot !  And 
in  my  anger  I  would  have  left  you  —  beguiled  by  the 
plotters ! " 

"  Olvir  —  Olvir!  my  hero,  —  my  gerfalcon!  Do  not 
shrink  from  me  —  do  not  go  —  stay  with  me,  Olvir!  All 
the  night  I  sat  watching  your  ships  sail  away  into  the  cold 
North.  I  cannot  bear  it !  Men  say  the  Norse  maidens  are 
fair  —  My  heart !  another  will  lie  in  your  arms.  Stay  — 
stay  with  me,  bright  hero !  See ;  I  beg  —  I,  the  queen,  on 
my  knees  to  you.  My  God  —  he  goes !  Turn  again,  Olvir, 
only  turn.  You  shall  have  that  also,  —  I  pledge  it  on  your 
knife,  —  the  girl  also,  —  everything !  only  turn !  " 

But  Olvir  neither  paused  nor  turned  about  to  the  fran- 
tic woman.  His  eyes,  clear  and  luminous  with  inward 
light,  were  upraised  as  though  he  looked  into  the  blue  sky, 
and  his  lips  smiled  as  they  murmured  the  hard  sayings  of 
the  Carpenter's  Son :  "  *  Blessed  are  ye,  when  men  shall 
revile  you,  and  persecute  you,  and  shall  say  all  manner  of 
evil  against  you  falsely.  .  .  .  Love  your  enemies,  bless 
them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,  and 
pray  for  them  which  despitefully  use  you.' " 

"  He  is  mad  —  mad !  I  have  stung  him  to  madness ! " 
cried  the  kneeling  woman;  and  she  struggled  up  to  peer 
out  through  the  hangings  after  the  Northman.  But  when 
she  saw  him  returning  directly  to  the  door  of  the  king's 
chamber,  she  clutched  at  her  bosom,  and  glided  swiftly  out 
after  him.  A  blow  between  the  helmet-rim  and  the  gold 
collar  of  the  hauberk  — 

But  already  the  outlaw  was  at  the  other  door.  The 
469 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

doorward  had  not  returned.  He  parted  the  curtains,  and 
stepped  within,  unchallenged,  even  as  the  stealthy  follower 
was  upon  him.  The  chance  was  lost. 

With  a  soft  rustle  of  silken  robes  the  queen  darted  past 
the  Northman,  to  fling  herself  into  the  king's  arms. 

"  He  is  mad,  dear  lord,  —  mad !  "  she  cried.  "  He 
entered  my  bower,  and  I  alone !  None  but  one  crazed  —  " 

"  Peace,  dame.  It  is  you  have  lost  your  wit ;  I  have 
come  into  wisdom,"  replied  Olvir.  "  Peace  to  you  and  to 
your  lord.  I  turn  back,  that,  before  I  go,  I  may  take  oath 
to  my  tidings  of  how  Hardrat  and  his  fellows  plot  with 
Duke  Tassilo  and  Adelchis  the  Lombard  against  the  life 
and  throne  of  the  son  of  Pepin." 

"  So,  outlaw,"  cried  Karl,  "  you  hold  to  that  lie !  Mur- 
derer and  traitor  —  and  now  —  " 

"  Peace,  world-hero ;  do  not  speak  the  word  you  will 
ever  rue,"  said  Olvir,  so  quietly  that,  as  the  king  answered, 
his  voice  sank  to  a  mutter. 

"  My  Grey  Wolf  fell  on  the  Saale  bank,  pierced  by  the 
arrows  of  the  Sorbs." 

"  Bid  men  go  look  upon  the  count's  riven  hauberk  and 
the  wounds  which  split  his  hard  skull,"  rejoined  Olvir. 
"  Even  Sorbs  would  not  notch  their  swords  on  bone  and 
iron,  when  the  foe  lay  arrow-pierced.  Yet  more,  —  no 
crooked  blade  cuts  like  the  sweeping  longsword.  My  mail 
was  proof;  but  the  weals  still  show  where  the  blows  struck 
across  my  back.  As  to  the  slaying  of  the  leech,  does  the 
king  name  me  a  witling,  that  I  should  strike,  and  leave  the 
knife  to  tell  the  tale?  Let  your  daughter  bear  witness.  I 
gave  the  blade  back  into  her  hand  when  I  turned  from  the 
cowering  dotard  to  come  before  you.  It  must  be  she  let 
it  fall  as  I  caught  her  to  me.  Another  came,  and  found  it 
lying  ready  for  the  foul  deed  —  " 

"Gerold!" 

322; 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

"  No,  lord  king.  What  could  the  brother  of  Hilde- 
garde  gain  by  the  slaying?  No;  it  was  another,  —  whom 
I  could  name.  But  I  do  not  come  for  vengeance,  dear  lord ; 
I  come  only  to  open  your  eyes  to  the  truth,  that  the  Thu- 
ringians  may  not  take  you  unawares.  Well  was  it  you 
journeyed  so  swiftly  out  of  Saxon  Land.  I  call  to  mind 
the  words  of  that  red  boar  Hardrat : '  Never  shall  Karl  cross 
again  over  Rhine  Stream/  " 

The  king  flung  out  his  hand. 

"  God  forgive  me,  Olvir! "  he  muttered.  "  The  scroll 
which  maddened  me  —  " 

"  In  seeking  my  death,  lord  king,  they  have  sealed  their 
own  doom.  I  could  not  name  them,  so  they  have  them- 
selves sent  their  names  to  the  lord  whom  they  would  have 
betrayed.  It  is  God's  will.  My  counsel  to  the  King  of  the 
Franks:  In  the  name  of  Christ,  there  has  been  much  to 
rouse  hatred  and  enmity  against  your  rule,  —  harshness 
and  cruelty.  You  have  listened  to  the  ill  counsel  of  this 
misguided  daughter  of  God.  Therefore  I  say  to  you,  bear 
in  mind  your  own  deeds,  and  be  merciful  to  the  wrongdoers. 
Now  I  go.  The  outlaw  will  not  again  trouble  the  son  of 
Pepin.  God  be  with  you !  " 

"Stay,  Olvir!  You  shall  not  go!"  cried  Karl,  and, 
freeing  himself  from  Fastrada,  he  came  with  a  rush  to 
seize  the  Northman's  shoulders  in  his  iron  grasp.  "  Now 
I  hold  you  fast,  kinsman.  You  shall  not  go  from  me.  No 
longer  are  you  outlaw.  You  shall  wed  your  betrothed,  and 
stay  in  my  hall,  Count  Palatine,  in  the  stead  of  Worad  of 
Metz.  He  whom  the  king  has  wrongfully  doomed  to  shame 
shall  sit  on  the  king's  judgment-seat." 

"  My  lord !  my  lord !  "  —  the  queen's  voice  rose  to  a 
scream  —  "  what  would  you  do  ?  My  father !  Kosru !  See 
the  bloody  knife.  You  'd  take  the  murderer's  word  against 
a  score  —  " 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


"  Silence,  woman!  I  have  given  heed  long  enough  to 
your  ill  counsel;  long  enough  have  I,  the  king,  turned  a 
harsh  face  against  my  loyal  liegemen,  at  the  bidding  of  a 
woman.  My  folly  has  borne  bitter  fruit,  —  heart-burnings 
and  strife.  Go,  hide  your  shame  in  the  bower.  Prepare 
yourself  to  live  at  peace  with  my  high  judge,  else  I  —  " 

"  Lord  king !  "  protested  Olvir,  "  is  this  time  for  harsh 
words?  Listen,  dear  lord!  Wisdom  has  come  to  me.  I 
see  how  my  own  anger  has  brought  my  own  sorrow. 
When,  on  the  Garonne  bank,  I  broke  troth  with  the  daugh- 
ter of  Rudulf,  the  outcome  might  have  been  far  different 
had  I  curbed  my  tongue  from  scorn.  If  the  maiden  was 
at  fault,  my  fault  was  the  greater." 

"  O  God !  "  moaned  Fastrada,  and  she  flung  herself  on 
the  marble  pavement. 

But  Karl  did  not  look  about  from  the  serene  face  of 
the  Northman. 

"  The  Count  Palatine  has  spoken,*'  he  said,  gravely 
smiling. 

"  Would  that  it  might  so  be!  "  answered  Olvir,  and  his 
dark  eyes  grew  dim. 

"  How  then?  "  demanded  Karl.  But  even  as  the  words 
left  his  lips,  the  door-hangings  parted,  and  Rothada  darted 
across  the  room,  blind  to  all  else  than  her  lover. 

"  Fly,  hero !  "  she  cried.  "  The  courtyard  swarms  with 
the  warriors ;  they  come  to  take  you !  Fly !  In  the  passage 
wait  those  who  '11  lead  you  to  freedom.  Ah,  Holy  Mother! 
—  too  late!" 

The  passage  without  resounded  with  the  tread  and  din 
of  armed  men  jostling  together  in  their  haste.  All  eyes 
were  fixed  on  the  doorway  as  Gerold  and  Liutrad  sprang 
into  view.  The  Swabian  paused  at  once,  and  stood  hesi- 
tating, his  face  white  and  drawn  with  despair.  But  Liu- 
trad  strode  across  the  room,  tucking  up  his  robe  as  he  went. 

473 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 


On  the  wall  hung  his  great  axe.  He  plucked  it  down,  and 
turned  about,  with  flaming  eyes,  as  Count  Worad  rushed 
into  the  king's  chamber,  in  the  lead  of  a  score  of  warriors. 

But  then  the  king's  voice  rang  out,  clear  and  joyful: 
"  Stay  your  hand,  viking-priest !  And  you,  Count  of  Metz, 
take  away  your  men.  There  's  now  no  need  of  them." 

"Father!"  cried  Rothada.  "You  smile!  He  is  no 
longer  outlaw ! " 

Karl  drew  her  to  him,  and  stood  stroking  her  soft 
tresses,  while  the  wondering  warriors  filed  out  of  the  king's 
chamber.  When  Worad,  crestfallen  and  bewildered,  had 
followed  his  men,  Karl  bent  over  his  daughter. 

"  Do  you,  then,  love  him  so  much?  "  he  murmured. 

"  More  than  life !  God  be  praised,  you  Ve  listened  to 
him!" 

"  I  shall  not  soon  forget  how  near  I  came  to  losing  my 
Dane  hawk,  —  and  he  flown  hither  to  warn  me  of  deadly 
peril!  Let  the  traitors  give  thanks  to  Heaven  for  unmer- 
ited mercy.  They  will  have  a  mild  judge." 

Olvir  shook  his  head.  "  My  heart  leaps  with  joy  that  I 
have  won  again  the  friendship  of  the  world-hero.  Yet  I 
ask  two  things  only,  —  let  my  lord  king  give  me  my  be- 
trothed to  wife,  and  bid  me  God-speed  on  my  homeward 
faring." 

"  The  maiden  is  yours,  kinsman.  But  we  cannot  part 
either  with  her  or  you." 

"  Dear  lord,  I  speak  with  clear  vision.  The  heretic 
cannot  sit  in  peace  among  those  who  bend  to  the  Bishop  of 
Rome ;  and  more,  it  is  best  that  we  should  go,  both  for  our- 
selves and  for  the  queen.  I  am  weary  of  strife.  My  heart 
longs  for  the  iron  cliffs  of  my  home  land,  for  the  salt  bil- 
lows roaring  among  the  skerries,  for  the  still  waters  of  the 
fiord.  The  viking  stifles  in  this  sea-less  land." 

"  Can  nothing  stay  you,  Olvir?  Think  what  you  ask! 
473 


MJ&MMM 


FOR    THE    WHITE    CHRIST 

You  tear  at  my  very  heart-strings.  How  can  I  send  my 
child  into  the  frozen  North?  " 

"  Not  all  is  rime  and  frost  with  us,  lord  king.  The  sum- 
mer is  fair  in  our  North  land,  and  the  Trondir  are  warm  of 
heart.  In  time,  I  shall  sit  on  the  high-seat  of  my  father.  The 
king's  daughter  shall  not  lack  either  in  honor  or  in  love." 

"  I  will  gladly  give  you  whatever  else  you  ask,  Olvir. 
But  to  part  with  my  child  —  " 

Gently  Olvir  put  Rothada  from  him,  and  half  turned. 
He  spoke  with  the  calm  of  utter  despair :  "  It  would  seem 
the  Norns  have  woven  ill  for  me.  I  go  into  the  North,  and 
— -I  go  without  my  bride." 

"  Ah,  no !  "  gasped  Fastrada.  Struggling  to  her  feet, 
she  tore  from  about  her  throat  the  necklace  of  sapphires 
which  the  Northman  had  given  her  for  wedding  gift,  and 
pressed  it  upon  Rothada.  "  Take  it,  king's  daughter ;  take 
it  —  even  that !  —  only,  bid  him  stay !  " 

Rothada  thrust  the  blue  stones  from  her,  and  drew  her- 
self up  with  a  haughtiness  which  the  king,  her  father,  had 
never  equalled.  There  was  no  grief  in  her  white  face  as 
she  made  answer :  "  Am  I  such  a  one  as  you  that  I  should 
bid  my  hero  bend  his  will  ?  He  goes  —  " 

"  And  you  go  with  him ! "  The  words  burst  from 
Karl's  lips  like  a  cry  of  anguish. 

For  a  moment,  Olvir  stood  as  though  dazed;  then 
Rothada  was  locked  fast  in  his  arms.  "  My  bride !  Joy  is 
ours,  king's  daughter !  " 

To  them  sprang  their  friends,  with  glad  words,  —  Liu- 
trad,  Gerold,  even  the  calm  scholar  Alcuin.  In  the  midst, 
Olvir  thrust  them  aside  with  friendly  force,  and  Rothada 
and  he  stood  forward,  radiant,  to  return  thanks  to  the  great 
king. 


474 


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